#what if we held hands..n ur hands were knives...

[loveheartarthur]

‘Ello~ :D hope you are well and I want to say that I like reading your stuff, it’s very nice and entertaining when I’m bored at school

Anyway, um, I do have a request (I offer a side quest :3) and you can write it or not, I won’t mind it at all

Something along the lines of “Reader somehow gets lost and is stranded out in the wilderness, scared of a lot of things and nearly dies when Arthur shows up and take them back to camp”

Again, can write it, or not ._. I won’t mind it at all and respect your decision :3

𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 (𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒖𝒓 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒙 𝒈𝒏𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)

𝓑𝓔𝓕𝓞𝓡𝓔 𝓨𝓞𝓤 𝓡𝓔𝓐𝓓! gn!reader . arthur is taller than reader, reader is a crybaby . age gap(?) . maybe ooc arthur . gunshot mention . not proofread

vazey was an 1800s term for stupid im sure,, correct if im wrong too!!

u wouldn't go back home, not back to emerald ranch, anyway. you hated that little town with every fibre of ur being. it had no opportunity for u or that u liked, really. ur mother passed away when u were young, leaving only u and ur father. yet, he did well raising u, turning out to be quite the goody-two shoes. until he passed away a few months ago. it was always the good folk that died young. and oh, how u missed them dearly every day.

now in ur early 20s, u were keen to help out with Seamus's farm, u also knew he had some... business going on there too but you barely had any more inclination of anything more. but the other people that helped out? they were mean to u. so, so mean. they had more experience, calling u vazey every chance they got, even if u did majority of the work. every mean comment would have ur eyes glossed with tears, and u? u were a sensitive soul. a crybaby.

only now that u realised u were lost in the wilderness. and u were terrified, already spent the last savings for food but that was gone by now. u were even more terrified to ur core knowing that u were on the run from a small gang of outlaws who were known as the o'driscoll boys. they were a mean bunch. an evil bunch, even. terrorising anyone that crossed their path and this time, it was u. and u were helpless. they were no match for u.

"n-no, please! i don't want any trouble, jus' please- let me go!" u said with a shaky breath, tears running down ur cheeks as u met their gaze before u were harshly pushed to the ground. but of course, the o'driscolls were the type of men to take what they want, when they want.

"nah, yer quite the fine thing we got ahold of.. lucky fer us, 'course." he purred, his friens laughing as they stood behind him. oh, u felt powerless, the tears continuously dripping down ur face from fear and panic, ur heart was even pounding a lot more than before. u had no idea how u were getting out of this, if u were getting out of this. as u squeezed ur eyes shut preparing urself for the worst to come... but it didn't. but u immediately covered ur eyes after hearing gunshots fright in front of u. there was alot of grunting, gunshots and knives being thrown.

u finally opened ur eyes, immediately backing up till u hit a tree as u met the gaze of a burly-looking man. he had fre cts and bruises and yet, he was kind to u, even if u were still panic-striken. poor soul. u looked rough, ur eyes were sensitive from those streaming tears, ur cheeks were all red and ur hair was a mess with ur clothes being all tattered. "hey now, it's alrigh'... i ain't gonna hurt ya." he said softly, despite the roughness in his tone. he held his hand out to help u up and u hesitantly took his hand - calloused from years of hard work.

"do ya have a place where ya could go? it ain't safe bein' out in alone." he asked, he was concerned for ur safety. especially after seeing how those men treated u. "not.. really, i ran away 'cause i didn't like it there- 'nd i don't wanna go back there either." u said with ur voice laced with fear. u began to fidget with ur hands as he stood there, thinking for a moment. he was so tall, he had to be 6 foot u thought. u have never seen him before so he might be a hunter? or a traveller of sorts? and then he spoke.. "how 'bout ya come with me to a camp, jus' fer a little bit 'nd ye can decide what ye wanna do?" he asked, looking down at u with a decided look on his face. then u thought for a moment, thinking. what could possibly go wrong? u looked up to him with a nod.

next thing u know he guided u to his horse, Broody. he made sure u were okay with him touching u before he lifted u off the ground, placing u on his horse to take u back to the camp he was talking about. "what's yer name?" *he asked as he got on his horse. "y/n." u gave a quick response, feeling ur guard coming down bit by bit. "y/n... 'm arthur. arthur morgan." he replied, giving a little bow of his head before turning around to face where he was going.

"nice to meet ya, mr morgan." u say, almost like a whisper.

hi anon!! hope ur doing well nd that u liked this! this was exciting for me to do nd it was in the drafts for a long while,, u gotta love arthur morgan<3

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan rdr2 #i love arthur morgan #hes such a sweetheart #rdr2 fanfic #red dead fanfic

[7s3ven]

hello! ur writing is so fun and rahhhh i heart it. idk if ur taking cato reqs but i love him bro its an issue. anyhow, childhood friend!tribute!reader and him coming to terms with the fact that both of them cant win. could be platonic or romantic whatever u like<3

I’m literally in love with Cato.

( master list )

DANCING WITH UR GHOST. cato hadley

IN WHICH… Cato Hadley and Y/N L/N accept there can only be one winner. The Capitol watches as one falls and the other leaves the arena with a furious heart, never quite moving on.

Warnings : not proof-read, a little bit of angst, some gore (it’s the hunger games)

—

THG TAG LIST : No one rn 💀

—

It was a hot and sunny day when the Capitol chose to announce the tributes. Small beads of sweat rolled down Y/N’s forehead as she clasped her hands behind her back. The sun was relentlessly beating down on the large group of teenagers crowded in front of the stage, organised by age and all eagerly waiting.

Y/N wasn’t like the rest of her District. She had seen how the effects of the Hunger Games weighed down on the tributes. Haymitch had turned to drinking after the slaughter of his family. Y/N couldn’t imagine returning home to see the people you held dear gruesomely bloodied on the floor.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cato. He stood out from the boys, being one of the tallest and towering over them. He had his jaw clenched and he was impatiently tapping his foot, waiting until he could leap onto the stage.

His head turned and they locked eyes. Y/N was the first to break into an amused smile and he returned it, his pale lips curving upwards.

Y/N paid no attention to the video playing on the screen in front of her. They showed it every year and she had practically memorised the voice lines by now. Her mind flashed back to yesterday, the day where Cato had suggested the unthinkable.

“What if we run away?” He questioned, making Y/N pause. She grasped the handle of her ax tightly as she spun around to face her childhood friend.

“What?” She needed to make sure that she had heard him right. It’s not like Y/N hadn’t thought of it before but for Cato Hadley of all people to ask was outrageous. He was Two’s greatest candidate. They were all counting on him.

“You heard me. What if we ran away? Away from all this and away from the games? I wouldn’t have to worry about being a peacekeeper. We could do it, you and me.”

Y/N has full faith in her axe skills and Cato’s strength but the idea was almost too crazy to pull off. She shook her head, “They’d find us.” She whispered. Y/N was glad nobody else was in the gym because this could be considered treason.

Y/N subtly shook her head. If only leaving District Two was that easy. They would surely notice if their strongest candidate and his axe-throwing friend went missing.

Her attention was caught by the lady, Kikoro, walking towards the microphone in a hideously bright yellow skirt. Beside her, Y/N heard Clove laugh.

Clove was a good friend of Cato’s and by default she was a friend of Y/N’s too. She was shorter than both of them but that didn’t stop her from snapping at people left and right. Her skills with throwing knives were amazing and Y/N often felt a little jealous. Surely the knives were lighter compared to lugging around a wooden stick with a blade attached to it.

“Now, I must warn you, there’s a new little rule. No volunteering this year.” Kikoro uttered into the microphone, her lips covered in yellow lipstick curling into an unsettling smile. She ignored the disappointed jeers from the teenagers as she reached into the first bowl. “Ladies first. It’s only polite.”

Everybody watched with bated breath as Kikoro unfolded the piece of paper painfully slow. Clove was practically shaking with excitement.

Kiroko cleared her throat before she leaned forward, glancing at the crumbled paper. “Y/N L/N.” She said.

Y/N clicked her tongue, thinking it was all a sick joke. She wasn’t scared shitless like the tributes in the paper districts were but she was disappointed. Why her and not somebody who actually wanted to compete?

Y/N begrudgingly stepped onto stage after being dragged by a peacekeeper. “Let go of me.” She hissed, yanking her arm out of the man’s grip.

“What’s your name, dear?” Kiroko asked, gesturing Y/N to step forward to the microphone. The H/C-nette stared at the Capitol citizen in confusion.

“You just said my name… Y/N L/N.”

Kikoro paused before she burst into a fit of light laughter. “Ah, sorry dear. I’m so used to volunteers. Next up, the boys.”

Y/N hoped her District partner would be someone useful who she could discard later. Someone strong but not too strong as to overpower her.

As Y/N rocked back and forth on her heels, she glanced over at Kikoro who was now unfolding the second paper. She read text written in black ink before grasping the microphone.

Hearing her own name getting called didn’t frighten Y/N but as Kikoro declared the male tribute, her heart dropped so fast that she may as well collapsed. It was the one person she wished hadn’t been chosen.

“Cato Hadley.”

The train ride was silent. Enobaria had tried talking to the pair but they never replied. Eventually, she gave up and went to a different compartment.

“We should’ve run away.” Y/N quietly muttered, suddenly regretting not putting the absurd plan into action. Across from her, Cato chuckled.

“Yeah…” He paused, refusing to believe that this was really happening. That he’d have to kill his best friend if he wanted to survive. He was brought back to the harsh reality as the train bumped along the tracks.

“You should’ve played dead… or something.” Y/N stirred the spoon around in her cup of coffee, having no intentions of actually tasting the bitter drink. She licked her dry lips. “What happens if we’re the last ones left?”

Cato didn’t have the courage to answer. He pushed his food around with his fork for a few moments before finally lifting his head. “May the best win.” He uttered.

Y/N glanced out the window, staring at the tall buildings of the Capitol in the distance. She took a deep breath as the train quickly approached the large city and their impending doom.

The days in the Capitol were limited. And they passed by fast. One minute Y/N was standing in front of the dummy targets, skilfully throwing axes as their heads then the next she was in front of a crowd in a glittery gold gown.

“You’re a fan favourite, Y/N. How does that make you feel?” Caesar, with his crazy blue hair and matching suit, said as he widely grinned.

“I guess I’m just that charming.” Y/N smiled as she leaned back in her seat, gracefully crossing one leg over the other.

“Our time is almost up but may I ask the question that everyone has been wondering? What on earth is going on between you and Cato?”

The Capitol had caught wind of the small stolen glances and borderline flirtatious kisses on the knuckles. Y/N shifted in her seat as she recalled the event before this very interview.

“You look…” Cato entered the room, practically starstruck as Y/N stood on a small platform. “Wow.” She frowned as she adjusted the tight bodice of her dress.

“Really? Because right now, I can’t really breathe.” Y/N let out a small laugh but she felt her corset suffocate her lungs.

“Does this look like a face that would lie to you?” Cato grasped Y/N’s hands and helped her off the platform. “I mean it. You look stunning… almost makes me wish we were getting ready for a ball instead of this.” Cato’s face was so close. Y/N couldn’t help but let her eyes dart to his lips.

“You look handsome too.” She playfully grinned as she straightened Cato’s tie. “Blue suits you.”

“We’re just friends.” Y/N repeated that overused phrase while the Capitol citizens groaned in frustration. “I don’t know what you want me to admit… Cato is handsome but I can’t imagine dating someone I’ve known since childhood… his face is getting a little annoying.”

Y/N’s cheeky remark earned her a few laughs.

“If given the chance, I probably would’ve liked to kiss him once, you know?” Y/N’s confidence grew and she forgot all about how Cato could hear her words through the small screen in the waiting room. She folded her arms over her chest just as the timer buzzed.

“Y/N L/N, everybody!” Caesar declared.

She stepped off the stage and back into the shadows, away from the piercing lights. Glimmer and Marvel had already returned to their rooms and Y/N was about to do the same before Cato came into view.

She saw him wave enthusiastically at the crowd but his eyes were on her. She shrank back, suddenly aware of what she had said during the interview.

Y/N scurried off before Caesar could even ask Cato one question. She stormed into the room assigned to District Two. Enobaria was sitting on the couch, clicking the TV remote buttons.

“Need help getting out of that dress?” The sharp-toothed woman asked. Y/N silently nodded.

“Thank you.” Y/N said, finally able to breathe properly again. She would never take oxygen for granted again.

Y/N was only dressed in a black singlet and shorts when Cato burst through her personal room door. “What was that?” He demanded, slamming the door behind him. “If given the chance? I’m giving you the damn chance, Y/N!”

Y/N let out a squeak of surprise when he grabbed her face and pulled her forward, swiftly kissing her like he had been waiting to do so for years. With how his hands trailed down to tightly grip her waist, Y/N wouldn’t be surprised if Cato had been dreaming of this moment.

Cato pulled away, resting his forehead on Y/N’s. “How’s that for a given chance?”

The sun in the arena felt different. Its heat was blistering and Y/N felt her body burning up underneath her heavy jacket. She wanted to discard the warm piece of clothing but it would come in handy at night.

The Careers had already made their allies clear. Y/N glanced at Cato who was already staring at her as usual.

To Y/N’s left was Glimmer, who was impatiently tapping her foot as the countdown began. Y/N stared at the decreasing numbers until it reached five and she had no choice but to get ready to run.

This was no mere dream, it was a reality that Y/N wish she didn’t exist in, for Cato’s sake.

To no one’s surprise, Cato was the first to react as the countdown finished. He leaped off his podium, immediately making a run for a silver sword. Some tributes turned tail and ran but those who joined the mess in the middle were gruesomely stabbed by Cato.

Y/N grasped a pack of throwing knives, tossing the sharp objects at anything that moved. She managed to cut Katniss’ cheek and the ravenette was not pleased about that. The District Twelve girl shot an arrow Y/N’s way but she ducked and avoided it.

“Y/N, here!” Cato tossed a fancy looking axe her way. She easily caught it, swinging it at a foolish boy who thought he could beat her.

The bloodbath didn’t last long thanks to Cato. He either killed or drove off any of the remaining tributes. “I’m feeling pretty good about this.” He grinned down at Y/N as they waltzed around the Cornucopia. He twirled his heavy sword in his hand.

“You’re in a good mood.” Y/N muttered. The hunger for bloodshed had clouded Cato’s mind, causing him to forget that Y/N would have to die in order for him to emerge victorious. She said nothing about it, though, not wanting to spoil his cheerful mood.

“I’ll be in a better mood after this.” Cato chuckled to himself as he pecked Y/N’s lips. He held her close, burying his face in her neck.

Y/N stood still, awaiting the moment where they would be forced to turn on each other. Out of the pair, Y/N had always been the rational realist.

Glimmer was dead, filled with toxin after Katniss sabotaged the Careers’ camp.

Marvel was next. Katniss skewered him like a kebab with her arrow. He died on the forest floor, joining Glimmer in Katniss’ kill count.

And then there were two. Y/N had narrowly avoided being bashed in the head with a stone by Thresh. The side of her head was still bleeding, the crimson liquid staining the green grass below.

Y/N groaned as she collapsed beside Cato, leaning against the large tree trunk. “Who’s left?” She rasped. She had heard a canon go off but she had no idea who it was.

“The boy from Eleven, the pair from two, and us.” Cato replied, his shoulder brushing against Y/N’s. He pulled out a small tin bottle, handing it over to Y/N. She gratefully took a large gulp of cold water. “Don’t worry, we’ll get home.” He whispered, “You and me forever.” After Y/N’s near death experience, Cato realized that the Capitol had played him as a fool. But he was happy about the announcement that said two victors could win if they originated from the same District.

Y/N leaned her head on Cato’s shoulder and closed her eyes, deeply sighing. She didn’t know when she dozed off or how long she was asleep but she cracked open one eye to see Cato hurriedly shaking her.

Night time, the Careers’ prime time to hunt, had already past. When Y/N’s eyes finally adjusted to the light, she furrowed her eyebrows. She was in a cave yet she remembered falling asleep on the forest floor. And Cato was covered in bites and gruesome grazes and blood. So much blood.

“Cato…” Y/N breathed, quickly leaning forward, “What happened to you?”

“I killed Katniss and Peeta… and the mutts killed Thresh. It’s you and me left, Y/N.” His sounded sounded so weak and he sluggishly cupped her face, panting heavily. For once, he was covered in his own blood rather than the blood of his victims.

“You drugged me…” Y/N’s heart fell to her stomach as she realized what had happened. Cato had slipped sleeping pills into the water and while she was knocked out, he put her in a cave and went to hunt down the three other tributes. She furrowed her brows. “How could you? Cato… you could’ve died.”

He let out a quiet laugh. “Yeah… I know. That was kind of the point. While you were asleep, they revoked the two victors rule. There can only be one again.”

That was enough for tears to well up in Y/N’s eyes. “Don’t leave me… please.” She cried as she held Cato, her childhood friend and her first true crush. His blood stained her muddy clothes but she didn’t care. “Please…” She trailed off as Cato wheezed.

“The mutts did a good job on me.” He muttered, finding it harder to stay awake. Y/N’s eyes widened.

“No. Cato. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me here!” She immediately noticed how his pulse slowed down. “Stay awake, Cato! I can fix this! Please.”

Y/N had already come to terms that there could only be one victor but she had yet to accept that fact that she had to lose Cato to walk out.

“You can’t give up now… we came this far. We can sort something out.” Y/N uttered as she shook Cato in a fruitless attempt to convince him.

“I love you, Y/N.” He grasped her hand, squeezing it tightly. “I always have. Ever since we became friends. Ever since you were the first to find the courage to talk to me. I don’t know what I would have done with you.”

Y/N laughed as a sob bubbled up in her throat. “I love you too. If only your name wasn’t called. I could’ve won the games and come back to you.” She shakily sighed as she leaned down to kiss Cato’s cold lips. She placed her hand on his neck and when she felt no pulse, she pulled back in a panic.

“Cato?” She shook him once. Then again. “Cato?!” She repeated, this time louder. “No… no… no! Don’t leave me here! Cato!”

She screamed so loud that the sound echoed around the forest, scaring the birds and causing them to flee.

“Cato!”

Y/N walked out of the arena a free woman. Not quite since Snow would still have full control over her but she liked to think she was free to a certain extent.

The Capitol workers had tried to discard of the necklace she held so tightly in her left hand but she refused to let them take it away. It was the only remaining memory she had of Cato.

Anger swirled around in her heart like a monster, threatening to burst free and reign terror over anyone that came in contact with her.

Only now was Y/N realising why the victors never looked genuinely happy despite having everything they wanted. It was because Snow tore their deepest desires away, always holding it near but never within their reach.

Enobaria had wanted to be a mother.

Gloss wanted a peaceful life with his sister.

Cashmere wanted nothing more than to take care of the children in District One.

Brutus craved freedom from Snow’s cruel clutches.

And poor Y/N dreamt of becoming a bride but as she watched the light drift from Cato’s eyes, her wish was swept away with it.

Now, Snow had nothing to take away from her because the person she loved the most was already gone.

#cato hadley #cato hunger games #hunger games x reader #glimmer hunger games #marvel hunger games #clove kentwell #clove hunger games #jennifer lawrence #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #hunger games fanfiction #cato thg #thg series #thg fanfiction #hunger games #the hunger games #oneshot #hunger games fic #hunger games fandom #requested #president snow #coriolanus snow

[spider-biter]

🌙 Late Afternoon Sun ☀️ - Marc Spector/reader

Summary: A brief glimpse into your life with former mercenary Marc Spector

Warnings: mentions of knives, mild talk of blood. You cut ur hand open on accident so!

A/N: im in the trenches so this might suck idk. btw POVs are so weird so if it’s a lil funky- I know- please lmk what you thought!!! I look at every like/reblog :) love u guys!

Rating: pure ache-inducing fluff. pls send help I’m so touch starved-

Marc Spector was a terrible cook.

Jake could somehow cook the most delicious, spicy, authentic Guatemalan food you have ever tasted. Steven could make every vegan dish under the sun. But Marc Spector could barely boil a hotdog. Which is why you were currently triple checking the oven to make sure it was on.

It was supposed to be a simple meal. Something with bell peppers, carrots, and maybe some ground beef if Steven let us. But so far it had been 20 minutes of pure chaos in our small kitchen.

Marc had just walked in from work, hearing the soft words of Elvis float through the flat. He gently set his keys down and smiled to himself. Even after the day he had at work he still got to come home to you. He wandered into the kitchen before sitting down on one of the barstools. Your back was turned to him double checking the recipe. You turned around before being surprised at seeing him.

“Marc! Holy shit, you almost made my heart stop!” ‘We seriously need to get him a fucking bell’ you thought. You swore you can hear Steven a mile away & hear Jake's curses down the hallway, but Marc somehow always snuck up on you.

“Now you know how I feel sweetheart” he joked, leaning on his chin. You rolled your eyes in response before going back to cutting vegetables.

“How was work?” To some, it was a bland question. But to Marc? After fighting his whole life, his whole childhood, to be asked such simple and mundane questions, and have someone care? It meant the world. So he smiled and started talking about his simple day job. It wasn’t anything super fun or amazing, just helping with INTERPOL data across Europe & risk assessments, but such a simple life was what he wanted.

You both talked about life, simple parts of your days. You listened to him talk about the trip he’s going on in 2 weeks to bust some Polish drug ring, and he listened to you rant about some random work drama. It was nice.

Until you sliced your fucking hand open.

“Shit” you softly uttered, setting down the knife. Marc stopped mid-sentence and quickly got up.

“Hey hey hey, it’s gonna be ok, grab a towel and apply pressure,” he held your shoulders as you pressed the towel against the wound. It wasn’t deep enough for stitches or anything, and it didn’t hurt super bad. But still, slicing your hand open was not what you felt like doing today.

“Ok, once the bleeding has stopped we’re gonna rinse it out, alright? No soap or anything, just water,” he explained, putting the vegetables away. You of course laughed, before reminding him that you weren’t 7.

To which he replied “I know but I gotta make sure my girl is alright,” before going and grabbing the first aide kit. You rolled your eyes smiling as you rinsed your wound out.

He came back in and guided you over to the bare stool before taking your hand. “At least I won’t complain about your bandaging technique” you smiled. Marc always had a critique when it came to how you wrapped up his knuckles after a night. Of course, it was all in good fun but that didn’t stop him from rolling his eyes in return.

“Hush or I’ll use alcohol instead of Hydrogen peroxide.” He smirked. You and him sat like that for maybe 5 minutes. Softly quipping back and forth, he tenderly addressed your cut.

Marc softly wrapped the gauze around your palm, securing it in place with some weird medical magic. He then turned your hand over and brought it up to his lips, before softly kissing it. “So romantic,” you blushed.

“And it’s nothing less than what you deserve,” His eyes danced with mischief before standing up, still holding your hand gently. You stood up as well before pulling him into a hug. A feeling of just love and utter devotion swept through you the moment he softly kissed your hand.

‘This man deserves nothing less than the world’ you thought, ‘and I’ll give him exactly that’ You tried your hardest to communicate that with the hug, hoping he understood.

What you didn’t know was that, while Marc wasn’t normally as much of a touch lover as Jake or Steven, he could still tell that this hug was simply filled with raw, pure, love. His dad was never the type to give him a hug, it was just something they never did. Especially around his mom. The last hug he probably ever got was from Layla, before the whole Egyptian god thing.

So he stood stunned for a second before gently hugging back. You smiled and leaned into the nape of his neck. It felt like a cosmic want, to be as close to him as possible. And so we stood there for what felt like an eternity of bliss.

You pulled away and lightly held his forearms and stared into his eyes.

“Marc Spector. I love you so so so much. I am the luckiest person in the world to have found you. You are loveable. You are loved by me.”

Your hand moved to softly cradle his cheek and wipe away a stray tear. His eyes were watering and his brow had an adorable crease in the middle.

“I love you in every way that I know how. You are more than enough. You are my universe”

You finished and leaned in to kiss him. His lips met yours, and in that moment, in every universe, you fell in love 100 times over.

When you finally broke for air, you leaned together, foreheads touching. His thumbs rubbed circles over your hands, careful not to disturb the gauze. And you stood, in the middle of the cozy flat. The late afternoon sun casts a soft hue over everything, emulating the warmth in your heart. ‘This is our home. They are my home.’ you thought.

He pulled back before hooking his hands around your hips, his eyes still staring into yours.

“I love you. I know it’s not the most romantic way to say it, but I would relive every single part of my life 100 times over, if it meant I still get to see you every time I wake up”

Your brain quickly floundered. Marc had told you about his past. About Wendy. About Randall. About his alcoholism. And he said he would do it all 100 times over??? Just for you?? You were damn near speechless.

‘Holy shit. I think I just fell in love all over again.’ You thought before giving him a watery smile. “Even if I wake you up early?” You laughed.

He rolled his eyes playfully. “Yes. Even if you wake me up despicably early.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes. In actuality, your heart was on fire for this man. You’ve never felt so much love and happiness in your life. He let out a soft chuckle before leaning in for a kiss. Right as you were about to too, the oven beeped.

“Oh shit! The peppers!” You quickly left his soft hold and grabbed the oven mitt. Taking out your peppers you turned and saw Marc looking at you like you kicked a puppy.

“What? I couldn’t forget my peppers!” You said innocently as you turned the oven off. The peppers in question were burnt beyond saving.

“You are so going to pay for that,” Marc smirked from across the island

You were almost tempted to play dumb, but the look in his eyes was obvious.

“Mhmm yeah definitely, but is that gonna be before or after we eat plain charred bell peppers for dinner?” You said sarcastically motioning to the empty counter.

He simply shrugged before walking around and saying “I guess that depends on how long the delivery guy takes.” He said fake innocently.

Your hands went to his shoulders, peppers long forgotten. “Or we could just ask them to drop it at the door, no interruptions required…” You whispered softly in his ear.

Something in his eyes shifted before you felt yourself being picked up bridal style and carried to the bedroom. “Put me down, Marc!!” You laughed tightening your grip around his neck.

“We still have to place the order!” You joked as he made his way through the flat. He rolled his eyes and smiled at you as we walked through the flat. “Good lord, are you trying to make me beg for it?” He playfully raised his eyebrow.

“Maaaaybe,” You said barely containing your smile and looking away.

“Not gonna happen, sweetheart,” he chuckled, “If anything-“

“Marc!” You laughed, “Before you finish that sentence I need to remind you that we are both fully clothed. And that’s a problem that needs to be solved.” He looked down at you before gently setting you down on the bed.

“A problem? Whatever will we do about that?” He smiled as the door clicked shut.

Let’s just thank the lord that UberEats still delivers at 3 am.

#marc spector x reader #marc spector #moonknight x reader #moon knight #steven grant reader #steven grant x reader #Marc Spector reader #soft #domestic Marc Spector #soft Marc Spector #marvel #mcu

[unloved-cadillac]

Umm hii Ive been reading ur akutagawa worksss and i was wondering if you could make REALLYY angsty akutagawa fic🥺👉👈

C/n: Alrighty. Angst it is then. Thanks for requesting and I hope that you enjoy🤍

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The Worst Type of Feeling. (Akutagawa x Reader)

Akutagawa was a complicated man.

Whether it was about how he lived his life according to a standard of an ex-superior or the way he loved. If you could even call what he did “love”. When you started to develop feelings for Akutagawa, you were worried a bit. He was so hard to read and always away but it was in these times did you catch yourself thinking what it would be like if you could be the one that could read him like your favorite book or be the one to make him stay.

You confessed not long after realizing your feelings and to your surprise, he reciprocated. He didn’t love you instantly, but there was just something about the way you greeted him or how you sat next to him when no one else did, did he start to look forward to seeing your beautiful face everyday.

Seven months after, you started to realize that maybe Akutagawa was starting to become a bit distant. He hardly talked to you and didn’t even think about asking how you were. It was all so sudden. He loved you, didn’t he? He said so. In his sleep a few months back. You knew how he felt about you so why was he acting like this?

Nowadays the only talk you would get from him was about the ADA and, sure you listened, but it started to become boring and old. Not that you would ever tell him that. He needed you. To vent, to scream at, to love. He loved you.

Akutagawa didn’t come home one night and that made you think all alone in your bed. Your thoughts surrounded your body as you tried not to spill it from your eyes. It was so..weird. This feeling. Like, you weren’t good enough. When was the last time Akutagawa initiated a hug or gave you a kiss for the pure reason of love? When was the last time he did something for you just for nothing? You always did those things and, you really didn’t want to be that type of person, but wasn’t relationships supposed to be 100-100? Not 0-100.

Maybe he grew out of love with you. Maybe he realized that you were too clingy and too loud. That your jokes were horrible and your hands were always cold when you held his. It was horrible. This feeling of unworthiness.

The next day, you sat at your island with a cup of coffee in your hands as you waited for him. He normally came home at 6 or 7am and even though you hadn’t a wink of sleep, you needed to do this.

You heard the door unlock and when it opened, there he was. He mumbled to himself as he placed the key in the little bowl by the door but stopped when he saw you. “Y/n? What are you doing up so early?” He asks and it made you want to smile. That was the most genuine thing he asked in months.

“I..We need to talk, Aku.” You say and your grip on your mug tightens. He nods and sits across from you as you watch his eyes wonder. They land on the brown bags next to you and then he realized certain things were missing from the household. The photo of your dog from the coffee table, your shoes, your keys…

“Y/n, what’s going on?” He asks after a long silence. You blinking increases as you try to not cry. “We need to break up.” Akutagawa froze. What?

“Is this some kind of joke?” You shake your head, not looking at him. “I didn’t know how much of myself I was sacrificing for us. You’re hardly here, you don’t tell me that you love me, you don’t do anything. It’s not a sudden decision, Akutagawa. I thought about this for weeks. But you wouldn’t know since you weren’t here to see.”

It’s like time stopped for Akutagawa. His chest started to pain and it was like his world came crashing down. The ah you said his full name with so much sourness made his stomach turn. He wanted to talk, say anything but the knives in his throat stopped him. You looked up and saw him, a stoic expression plastered on his face. You scoff. “Still nothing?” You asks and he opens his mouth but nothing comes out.

You shake your head and get up from your stool. You bend down to take your bag but a pair of familiar arms wrap around you. You stiffen but the arms get tighter. “Don’t..” he whispers and you sigh. “I have to, Akutagawa.” You whisper back.

You break away from him and take your bags from the floor and begin to walk to the door. You take a out a key chain from your pocket and leave the key to the apartment on the table. Turning around, you smile at him but that’s not the smile he fell in love with. “Goodbye, Akutagawa Ryunosuke.”

As soon as the door shut behind you, the apartment felt cold. Akutagawa clutched his chest and coughed which mixed with his tears. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He didn’t know how to love. It was so hard. But he loved you. He knew that for a fact. You would probably be the only one he would in this lifetime. And now, he lost you. You fell right out of his loose grip and vanished in the air. This feeling. It was worse than his illness. Worse than anything he had ever felt before. He held your hand but he wasn’t there next to you. He would say something and forget it the next day. Promise you one thing and do the opposite.

Akutagawa was a complicated man.

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“Back and sexier than ever, bitches.”

🖤🤍Thanks for reading🤍🖤

-Caddy.

#akutagawa x reader #bungou stray dogs akutagawa #akutagawa ryunosuke #bungou stray dogs fanfic #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd anime #bsd akutagawa #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs angst

[5csbin]

HAUNTED HOUSE !

HALLOWEEN TXT EDITION!

txt x neutral reader !

WARNING !: cursing! knifes! haunted house! JYP AND 6IX9INE!

a very crack and dumb one shot i made.

“MANE IF YALL DONT SHUT THE FUCK UP!” taehyun shouted as they were walking up to the line since everyone began to nag.

"this is why i wanted to go trick or treating instead." beomgyu pouted and folded his arms as he and the rest of the group waited in line to go inside of the haunted house.

well it was more like a haunted barn, where they would all get on a hayride and be driven throughout the barn and be spooked supposedly. "trick or treating?? how old are you again?" kai mocked him,

"no offense but i'm starting to think you were right when you said beomgyu was still mentally 9 years old because.. this is starting to get worrying. what 19 year old is trying go trick or treating?" yeonjun added in agreement, while taehyun shot him a dirty look for throwing shade at his best friend.

beomgyu’s first instinct was to scoot closer to (y/n), but he then fired off a clapback of his own. "the only thing that's worrying is that wig you're wearing, who the fuck are you even supposed to be? lord farquad on crack?" gyu fired back at yeonjun, who was now touching the short black bob on top of his head.

soobin couldn't help but laugh, even though it was his own boyfr- bestfriend getting flamed and soon, everybody else in the group let out laughter at gyu’s clapback. even taehyun, who couldn't stand beomgyu, was practically crying laughing at what was said.

"actually, i'm supposed to be dora," yeonjun replied, gesturing to his pink t shirt and bright orange jeans. "and soobin is.. well diego." he pulled soobin closer to him after saying that and kissed his forehead, before ruffling his blueberry curls a little.

"wait.. ain't dora and diego supposed to be cousins?" taehyun asked, his mouth curling in disgust, "i don't think that's positive..." kai added.

“cousin lovers.” (y/n) said making yeonjun smack their arm.

it was a wonder how they didn't annoy the others waiting in line for their ride, since they would fight every second. meanwhile as the group turn drew closer and closer, beomgyu found himself regretting agreeing to come here.

it was weird.. he loved horror movies, but he despised haunted houses because even though both were fake events, being in a haunted house was just so up close and personal you know?

if it wasn't for it being (y/n)'s birthday (lets just pretend ur birthday was on halloween.) beomgyu wouldn't have came, and he would have probably just stayed at home and took pictures of his costume for instagram before going over to hyunjin’s to watch scary movies.

(y/n) noticed that beomgyu looked uncomfortable amongst all of the roasts and jokes flying amongst the group and they decided to ask what was wrong.

"gyu, why do you look so sad? being sad is my job," (y/n) asked as the group continued to move up in the line. "i'm not sad," beomgyu answered. "i'm just nervous, i don't like haunted houses.. i had a really bad panic attack the last time i went to one, and i don't wanna have one and ruin your birthday or anything.. i probably should have just stayed my ass home."

"nah, you not going to ruin my birthday, you're my friend and i care about you... it won't be that scary, it's literally a haunted barn. you know what barns have? cows and chickens. now who's scared of cows and chickens? nobody. except blades of grass."

the little pep talk made gyu feel slightly calmer. "thanks," he replied, fumbling with the thick leather choker around his neck. "your costume is really cute by the way. i like the face paint."

"thanks, it was kai’s idea actually," they responded with a chipper edge to their voice. (y/n)' costume consisted of a sweatshirt and sweatpants with a skeleton printed on the front, and his face was made up to look like a skull.

after beomgyu was calm, he found himself overhearing a conversation between hueningkai, taehyun, and his knives.

"no tae, you can't bring your knives in here with you," hyuka shook his head as taehyun kept asking if he could run back to the car real quick and grab his knives "cmon kai, just in case a demon wanna try some shit"

"well.. can i get my ouija board?" tyun asked, his lips twisting into a devious smile. "i just wanna talk to the demons, it's halloween, and if it's any day i should be allowed to do this, it's today."

"ain't there no demons.. this is a barn. you wanna talk to demonic horses and shit?" yeonjun pokes in the conversation and raised an eyebrow.

"yes? of course i do, the fuck do you think i am?" taehyun whined, pointing to the devil horns on top of his head as the group finally made it to the front of the line and were waiting for the tractor to come back so that they could get on the hayride.

finally, after they all stood around and handed in their tickets to the clerk in front of the line, their tractor was ready, pulling along the hay covered cart as it came to a stop in front of the barn entrance, waiting for the group to board it.

"wait, hay? y'all ain't say there was going to be hay..." soobin complained, his skin already itching just by looking at all that hay. "y'all do know i'm allergic to hay right?"

"bitchhh, we been said it was a hayride involved," hueningkai snapped, "what you done caught the (y/n) disease where you forget everything every minutes or what?"

"aye i don't forget everything, i just be high," (y/n) cut in as they handed in their tickets to the clerk. "and i'm allergic to hay!" soobin cried out, scratching his forearm.

soobin actually is allergic to hay, but it wasn't something severe, he just got irritated by it and it caused his skin to rash up, not like his skin didn't already look as if it was full of rashes.

(that not true btw)

"oh well," hueningkai replied in a deadpan tone, shrugging. "guess you'll just die then."

after they've all handed in their tickets, everyone began to board the hay filled cart, with everyone obviously choosing to be closest to their besties.

when they got onto the cart. soobin was snuggled up to yeonjun, playing with his diego the explore backpack trying to ignore the itchy feeling the hay gave him.taehyun was resting his head on (y/n)’s shoulder, whining about his knifes, beomgyu was clinging onto kai for dear life, because he was still scared after all.

"i better not hear none of y'all screaming like no pussies after we get in here," yeonjun started after the tractor began to start up and drive them into the dark, cool barn. "how y'all gon be scared of demons when i'm taehyun a whole demon. y'all scared of him now?"

"actually, yes, i'm scared of him just a little bit," beomgyu answered, his tone groggy.

"considering he tried to kill me on multiple occasions and almost succeeded, yes yeonjun, i'm scared of taehyun and he make me fear for my life." soobin added on, slightly flinching at just saying the word taehyun.

"that was before i became positive," taehyun suddenly flashed soobin and beomgyu a toothy smile, "just like i'm positive that none of these demons or zombies or whatever the fuck is in this barn is gon' do shit to us."

"tae if you don't shut your ass up, there’s no demons in here, nor is there any zombies, they are paid actors. you wish you was in a horror movie so bad," hueningkai cut in, once again ruining tyun’s fun.

as of right now, nothing scary was going on. just the typical music playing throughout the barn, random screams, and plastic skeletons appearing out of nowhere. shit that made little kids be scared of, but anyone else wouldn't be phased. not even beomgyu was phased by what was going on, and he was the main one who was scared to come along.

but then.. things started to get more spooky. the people who were sitting on the edge would start to get grabbed and poked without warning, and people would come up on side of the cart out of nowhere and scream or otherwise bring attention to themselves, which would catch them off guard obviously, but shit like that was to be expected at a haunted house.. or in this case a haunted barn.

but soon though, things began to get downright creepy.

as they were sitting in the cart, slightly startled and caught off guard by the jumpscares, but not too shaken up, not even beomgyu was that scared, as he made sure to sit in the middle of the cart to avoid being randomly grabbed or touched by these strangers in costume, and it was just amusing to people like taehyun or (y/n), they weren't prepared for what started to happen next.

soon the music that sounded as if it was from a demonic nursery cut out mid note, and it was replaced by an old, gravely sounding voice that began to sing happy birthday very terribly and off key.

and they thought this was creepy, considering it was gus' birthday, but they considered it was a coincidence. "damn (n/n), they singing happy birthday to you, that's wild," yeonjun noticed, laughing at the 'coincidence'.

"see, i told y'all they’re really a skeleton, how else would they know that we're here for their birthday, hmm?" beomgyu added matter of factly causing the others to let out laughter.

so even though it was somewhat unsettling, it didn't become horrifying until the voice replaced "happy birthday to you," with "happy birthday (y/n)."

the place then became a chorus of "did yall hear that shit?" and "yeo what the fuck?!" after they noticed that, with (y/n) in particular being especially shook that there seemed to be a demon singing specifically to them, and their eyes went wide as the voice continued to serenade them, albeit poorly.

"see, this ain't it no more." soobin announced and hueningkai nodded in agreement. "h-how do they know it's (n/n)' birthday? much less who (y/n) is?" beomgyu asked as he held onto (y/n) even tighter than he was before. "i'm scared now."

"that's what we all want to know," yeonjun answered before reaching up to adjust his wig, before feeling nothing but his real hair tied back. he knew his wig didn't fall off or get snatched off, he had it secured with bobby pins, because it was one of his mother's wigs and he didn't want to lose it, but it had just completely disappeared.

"uh...my wig is gone," yeonjun announced and soobin just nodded. "same."

"no i mean it's for real gone... my dora or lord farquaad or whatever the fuck wig i was wearing earlier just.. disappeared into thin air." yeonjun continued to explain as he continued to search the surrounding area for it, just in case it fell out of his head but it was actually gone.

"see, i told y'all asses there were demons in here, but y'all didn’t wanna listen now y'all getting your shit taken, and demons are singing happy birthday to (y/n) and shit, and now y'all shocked," taehyun added with a huff.

"tyun, ain't no demons in here. if there were demons in here, they would do a lot worse than steal hats and wigs and sing happy birthday, believe that. they'd be torturing us psychologically, and- wait, where the fuck is my sheep hat?" hueningkai touched the top of his head, where his costume top was missing from, and now he was heated.

"yeah, we gotta get outta here."

more shit like that continued to happen with the voice continuing to reference them by name, and reference stuff that only people that know them would know, like soobin almost running someone over once, or yeonjun’s furry suit,and then, near the end of the ride, it all came together in the worst possible way.

a single echoing voice with a thick new york accent screaming "SCUUUUM GANGGGG!" followed by a laugh in the distance that sounded a lot like jyp’s laugh.

and in that moment, all of them literally hopped off of the cart and ran towards the exit.

#beomgyu #beomgyu smut #bts smut #soobin smut #smut #txt #txt smut #yeonjun smut #hueningkai #taehyun #txt x reader #txt reactions #txt imagine #kpop reactions #kpop #halloween imagine #yeonjun #soobin #choi beomgyu #choi soobin #choi yeonjun #kang taehyun #huening kai #bts #kpop imagines

[spacedaddymando]

All Heart and Beskar

Synopsis - A bounty hunter turned bounty, you find yourself as the assistant to one of the most feared bounty hunters in the parsec and his little green child with big ears.

A/N - Hi! This is the first story I have written in a long time so any feedback or constructive criticism is greatly appreciated! This will hopefully be a multi chapter story! I have kept physical descriptions to a minimum but the character is afab. It is a reader x Mando story but I have avoided using Y/N. My knowledge of Star Wars is rusty af so probably massive irregularities with canon lore. 18+.

Warnings - 18 +. Violence and death.

Chapter 1 

[3.1k Words] Chapter 1 - Back Alley Introductions

You docked in Canto Bight, a bustling casino city on the edge of the Sea of Cantonica. The bright lights were visible through the cloudy atmosphere as you landed your ship. Dry desert stretched as far as the eye could see outside of the city border. It was early evening, the sun was just setting over the west horizon.

Once landed and off the ship, you were met with an eager bay mechanic. A young lad who’s excitement at your ship was causing him to bounce around.

“I’ve never seen a hwk290!” He cried. “And in mint condition!” You smiled at him. “If I had the money I’d buy it off you!”

“Unfortunately she’s not for sale. But I need you to check the hyperdrive. It’s slowed.” You grinned and handed him the control panel to the ship's security. “Press here to lock and here for security. I’ll be back by the morning.”

He nodded, and ran around to the door. You could hear him excitedly explaining the ship to his silent pit droid.

You step out of the bay onto the busy street, people milled around everywhere, music and chattering filled your ears. You pulled your hood up over your head, shrouding your face in darkness. It was normal for people to wear hoods on Cantonica. The dusty planet sported high winds that would blow sand through the streets. You kept close to the crowd edges, passing cantinas filled with people and creatures. The air was warm and smelt like food, smoke, and….and Sewage. You wrinkle your nose.

You skulked around the Main Street, waiting for the puck to beep. It was still flashing so you knew the quarry was still alive. Your hands rested on the hilt of your knives strapped to your thighs. Again it wasn’t bizarre to see blasters and knives casually strapped to people. If anything the culture of always being armed made bounty hunting just that bit easier. You glanced up to the towering buildings either side, towards the small strip of night sky. Thousands of stars glitter through the planet's dusty atmosphere.

Beep! Adrenaline courses through you at the sound. He’s close. You duck into a side alley, and unsheathe your knives. You grasp the hilt and rest the flat edge of the blade underneath your forearm. Stepping back out into the bright street you moved towards the centre of the street, weaving in between people, head up surveying the area. The puck beeping softly. Closer.

A glint of silver hits your peripheral vision. You twist trying to see where it came from. Nothing is there when you turn round. The puck stops beeping. You curse. Turning around completely you begin to walk back up the street, the puck starts beeping again. So he’s here somewhere. You look up, balconies full of people fill your vision. You scan the area. There again! Another flash of silver. You twist, standing in the middle of the street.

That’s when you see him.

Standing taller than most in the crowd, silver beskar glinting in the casino light. You freeze, unsure of whether he’s noticed you or not.

You slip out of the main body of the crowd, quickly darting down a side street. It’s empty, the noise of the street fading slightly. You keep your back pressed against the wall of the building. If he’s seen you, he’ll follow.

The Mandalorian appeared at the top of the alley. Head scanning the area. You watched with a bated breath as he walked down towards you. You pressed closer to the wall. When the Mandalorian had passed, you crept out of the shadows, knives poised and ready.

“What are you doing here.” you hiss. He stops and turns slowly to face you. You thought you recognised the helmet, it looked familiar.

The Mandalorian stays quiet.

“I asked a question.” The Mandalorian stepped towards you, you don’t lower the knives.

“We’re both chasing the same quarry. Greef told me I’d find you.” Ah so that’s where you knew him from. The Guild. “It’ll be easier if we work together.” You furrow your brows.

“I didn’t realise you were looking for a partner Mando.”

“I’m not.” He pauses. “But I think we need to work together. Split the bounty.”

You scoff. “I don’t even know you. How can I trust you?” It's an honest question. You knew of his reputation but you also thought he worked alone.

He reached up. You tensed waiting to see where his hand went next. It curled around to a puck strapped to his chest. He flicked it over, red light blinking rapidly, the beep was faint but you identified it as the noise it makes when the holder finds it’s target. You held your breath as Mando pressed a button.

A hologram of you appeared. Your mouth hung open in shock. Your blood felt cold, and your stomach felt like it had dropped. So this is what it feels like.

“I won’t turn you in. Is that a reason?” The voice was clipped.

“Why is there a bounty after me?” Your voice was wavering, scared.

“Why is there a bounty after anyone?” You stared at him. Blades still drawn. He still held the puck out. Every inch of you wanted to destroy it but you knew better. If you did it would send an alert.

“Did Greef give you this?” You swallowed. You thought you were friends… business partners at least. The guild was supposed to offer some protection against bounties.

“No. I got it off an assassin who had been trailing you since before Nevarro.”

You blinked up at him. His dark visor was watching you. “But why help me? You don’t know me.”

The Mandalorian stayed quiet. You figured you wouldn’t get an answer so you ask another question.

“Are they still after me?”

“I have reason to believe so.”

“What can I do?”

“Help me with this bounty. Then we’ll discuss.”

“Where do you want to start?” But the Mandalorian was already moving past you. You ran to catch up, taking two strides for everyone one of his. At the top of the alley he motioned for you to wait. Mando passed you an ear comms unit. You put it in. 

“Can you hear me? Don’t speak. Nod.” His voice was rich and deep in your ear. You nodded slowly. “Good. Wait for my signal.”

“What’s yo-....” -ur signal. But Mando had already vanished into the crowd without answering. How did he just disappear?!

You walk back into the crowd, melting away with the movement of the city. Your heart rate is still high, you can hear the blood rushing in your ears. You’re being hunted. You feel sick. You carry on walking, knives still gripped tight in your hand. You sheathed them quickly, better not draw any unwanted attention to yourself.

“X Bar…” the voice crackles through the comms unit. You stop and scan the area. The bar is just up ahead on the left.

“Got it.”

“Get round back. Cover the area.” You sound an agreement as you slip down an alley. Turning to make sure no one saw. You cling to the wall, shadows concealing you. The alley is quiet.

What if this is a trap? Can you trust the Mandalorian?

Why is he helping you? Why hasn’t he killed you for the money?

You crouch in the shadows, eyes trained on the back entrance.

“I’m here.” You whisper into the comms. Mando doesn’t reply.

You try to slow your breathing. He’s helping you. He’s helping you. He’s helping y-.... Your mantra is cut off as a crash sounds from the back door.

A wiry man slipped out of the back door. You could hear a crackling through the comms unit, and barely made out the words “back….door….”

You spring into action, slipping quietly out of the shadows. The man is running away from you. You move silently behind him. He’s slipping through the back alleys, twisting and turning. His movements are jerky and uncoordinated. Drunkard.

He stops, and you slip back into the shadows. The sounds of other drunk patrons ring throughout the air. A crash of glass breaking eased the quarry's nerves and he continued on, this time walking.

You manage to get up behind him. Padding softly until you were so close you could smell the alcohol on him. You flick one knife around his throat, the other pressing into his back. Easy target.

“I suggest you don’t make a sound.” You hiss quietly. The man starts to twist around, you press the edge of the knife harder into his throat. “They want you alive, but I will drop you off dead.”

The man stills for a second, before grabbing your arm, trying to remove the knife from your grasp. You allow some movement, he lets his guard down for a split second and you kick his legs from underneath him. He drops down and you drop onto him, straddling his waist, knife pointing into his jugular vein. The other knife pokes his side.

“I suggest you don’t try that again.” You hiss, digging the point of the blade under his jaw. The man is shaking, staring up at you with dark blue eyes. You won’t actually stab him. At least not yet…..

“Roll him over.” A gruff voice calls out above you. You twist. The Mandalorian is standing there, visor tipped down to look at you. Blood stains the beskar. He has a blaster pointed at the man's head. You roll off the man, and he rolls over, subdued now the Mandalorian is here.

Mando leans down and cuffs him before dragging him onto his feet. You jump up. Knives sheathed in their holders. “Follow me.” Mando says, before marching the man down the alleys towards the docking bays.

You slip into the shadows again following behind the Mandalorian, listening to the man beg and plead for Mando to reconsider. Mando stays quiet.

The alleys are darker on this side of town, there’s barely any light filtering down from the Main Street. You can hear whispered voices in the darkened doorways. Mando’s armour glints in what little light there is. The bounty is loud, pleading for his life. You clutch the hilts of your knives again. Somethings wrong. You can sense it. Mando turned onto a brighter alley towards the Main Street.

A soft thud up ahead has you unsheathing your knives, still hidden in the darkness of the shadows. A man steps out of a door, his back is facing you. You can see from his posture he is holding a gun. Mando hasn’t noticed, the bounty is struggling, failing his arms around and kicking his legs out.

You rush forward, a blaster shot ringing out. You see Mando recoil with shock. Helmet twisting to see where the shot came from.

You glance back at Mando when he turns around. The unreadable darkness of the visor hides any reaction from you. The body of the assailant slumps to the ground, your knife sticking out of their back. You stand behind their fallen body, taking a few deep breaths. You can feel Mando watching as you tug the blade out of the man's back. You roll him over, his head lolling to the side. The quarry in Mandos’ grip is suddenly silent. Any hope of escape thwarted.

You quickly rifle through the mans pockets, trying to find an ID or something to ascertain his identity. When you find nothing you stand up, wiping your knife on his jacket, clearing the blood off it.

“Let’s go.” You step over the dead man's body. You see Mando roughly tugging the quarry up and starts to march him back to the ship. You slip back into the shadows. Watching and guarding his back.

The docking bays appear in view, everyone in the street moves out of the way for the blood covered Mandalorian marching a prisoner in front of him. Mando pulls up next to Bay 54, the door slides open.

You visibly relax, knives sheathed back on your thighs. You step into the bay behind him. A behemoth of a ship greets you. All dark and twisted metal with twin thrusters.

“Nice ship Mando.” He grunts in acknowledgment, mind preoccupied with the task at hand. He opens the hull of the ship with a button on his sleeve, the ramp slamming down with a thump. He drags the quarry up, and you wait sheepishly at the bottom suddenly unsure of if he needs you to follow.

You can hear the quarry screaming and pleading, and then the hiss of a carbonite machine. Then silence.

You sit on the edge of the ramp. You felt flat. The adrenaline that had coursed through you all night was fading, tiredness washing over you.

A small coo sounded from behind you. You twisted to see a little green creature tottering towards you on unstable feet. You knelt down to greet it.

“Hey there little fella!” The kid held his little hands out, you reached down and scooped him up. The kid giggled, eyes looking up at you.

“I’m sorry. I turned around and he was gone.” Came a voice from the top of the ramp.

“It’s no worries.” You stroked the top of the kids head. “He’s very cute.”

The Mandalorian watched you interact. You were aware of the feeling of eyes on you, and when you looked up the beskar helmet was watching you intently. The Mandalorian held his arms out and you placed the baby back in his arms.

“You are still in danger.” The gruff voice announced. You nodded solemnly.

“What can I do?”. You slipped the comms unit out of your ear and handed it back to the Mandalorian. He tucked it away. “Can I outrun them?”

He shook his head. “No. They’ll just keep sending people after you.”

“Who are they?”

“I don’t know. But they’re rich enough to keep sending assassins.”

You groaned. What could you do? You can’t run across the galaxy forever…

“You can fake your death.” The metallic voice broke your train of thought. He paused as if carefully considering his next words. “You can help me and help look after the child.”

You didn’t say a word, you just raised an eyebrow at him. Stay with the Mandalorian?

“You have until sunrise to decide. I leave then.”

He turned to step back into the hull.

“Wait!” He stops but doesn’t turn round. “What about my ship?”

“Sell it, and we’ll discuss the arrangements tomorrow.” And with that he disappeared into the hull. You stepped off the ramp, the flat feeling being replaced with a feeling of dread.

Your decision, as it turned out, was made for you.

You could smell the fire before you saw it. The sharp smell of jet fuel burning was unmistakable. The fire sirens wailing out, and flashing lights lined your path back to your bay. Instinctively you knew whose ship was burning.

You sprinted to the door of your bay. You didn’t get a chance to step in before you felt the heat. You stared in shock. Your ship was in flames. A giant blazing ball of heat. You let out a half choked sob. The fire crackled and popped, metal burning and wires melting inside. The smell of burning fuel singed your nose hairs, burning your eyes, and throat. The fire brigade pushes past you, trailing a hose. They dowsed your ship with foam, as you watched in horror as the blackened nose of your ship came into view. Everything was destroyed. You felt tears prickle in your eyes, from the heat or sadness you weren’t sure.

You swallowed. Slowly backing away from the hellish scene of your life burning in front of you. You slid to the floor, your heart sinking. Your whole life is gone. All your  possessions. You slam your fist into the dust. Why?

Who? Was your next question. With nowhere to go you went to find the only familiar face (or rather helmet) on this giant dusty planet. The walk back to Bay 23 was cut short when you collided with a rather solid metal chest.

“I saw the smoke.” He muttered. You stared up at him, eyes wet with tears. You let out a sob. Mando stayed still as you cried into his beskar armor. You were so distraught you didn’t really register the hand rubbing gently circles onto your back.

“Come on. Let’s leave.” Mando’s voice was calm. You sniffed, and brushed your tears away with the back of your hand.

You trudged behind him back to his ship, unaware of the tears streaming down your face. You didn’t feel like this was a choice. You felt like a caged animal being forced into a new pen.

Mando showed you to the ‘fresher, indicating that you should wash. You stripped off, pulling the shower drapes around and stood under the warm spray rinsing the dust, dirt and soot off your body. Undoing the plaits in your hair you washed that too, borrowing the Mandalorians soap.

Tears still escaped and you felt a sob well up in your chest. You let yourself sink to the floor of the fresher, crying in heaving gasps. You don’t know how long you sat on the floor, but the water was cold when you finally regained some composure.

Stepping out you find a towel and some clothes folded neatly on a shelf. He must have heard you cry. And if you were honest, you didn’t care. You dried yourself and dressed, stepping out into the cold hull. The clothes were big, but soft and warm.

The Mandalorian stood in the hull waiting for you, clutching the little green creature. He gestured to a cot in the wall. “Sleep.” He passed you a soft blanket, you took it gladly, and clambered into the cot.

Wrapping the blanket around you, you curled up in a ball. The cot door slid shut, plunging you into darkness. When you closed your eyes images of your burning ship flashed in your mind. You felt the tears burn beneath your eyelids. You let out a half choked sob, curling up tighter into a ball.

You don’t know how long you cried for, but at some point you finally drifted to sleep.

#mando x reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction

[pinkykitten]

everything stays

chapter 1 - blood on her hands :: gisela klein [ an aot oc story ] 

note: hey guys i know its been a rlly long time since ive posted anything and u may be rlly let down and underwhelmed that ive chosen to write a aot oc instead of fanfic but its what i want to write and i rlly love my oc and wanna give her some love and some praise and let u a little in how i see her. im sorry i havent posted a lot im going to try to write more and who knows i may or may not finish this but its ok imma try lol but life sometimes is a butthole. i hope you love her as much as i do an tysm for taking time out of ur day to read this story. enjoy!

Even though she knew that this day would have to come and that it was near, it still was a surprise for her. She was taken aback. It didn’t make sense and add up to her; she was trained for this since she was little; preparing mentally and physically for phase one of the plan; and the day appeared through the trees; past the wall; the opportunity was present; the fate of the people were waiting in their hands; and yet she felt a sense of evilness within her heart. Was this right? But there was no time. 

The day was written down in history. The stories were spread around like a disease. Heights, jaws, teeth, feet, stench, the screams. If they survived that nightmare they were seen as a tough soldier; as someone that was applauded because they probably had PTSD and had to see everyday as a reason within themselves or God that they were alive. That maybe just maybe they were saved for a reason; for a purpose. That is what Gisela Klein thought. Maybe there was something greater out there for her to do, to accomplish and that was why she saw another day; breathed another breath. 

But one thing was for sure. Forgiveness would never come her way; she would never expect it. To be a warrior she had to endure the horror; the pain; feelings of worthlessness; and friendships lost. 

This is the story of the 10th finding titan; the Slash Titan.

The pounding of her heart rang through her ears. It had taken everything for her to keep going on this journey; to continue on the path to and through Hell. She felt a loss within her and the light in her eyes died out. The loss of her friend made it hard for her to function. To keep her head in the game and in the plan. 

She sighed as she stared at her hands. Broken and bruised like her heart; scars and scratches scattered on her skin. Her bite mark deeply engraved into her flesh. She heaved a huge sigh. Ready to give death a handshake and make a deal with the devil. Panic was rising in her chest from her stomach, almost ready to throw up. 

As she thought about her family back home she realized there was no other way; she had to do this. In order to be with her family, to save them she had to do the one thing she was trained to do. 

Kill.

A lightning strike shot over the wall. The wall that kept the monsters away and at bay. Something was wrong; the air seemed to change. The lightning strike caused a boom, clap and the ground started to shake. 

Bertholdt drew his leg back and with full force swung his leg forward, knocking a hole into the wall that was impenetrable. Many people flew back from the wind of the blow and some were crushed by the debris of the wall. 

Many were going to die; but it’s what needed to be done. 

The titans were called. 

Finally the titans entered the devils homes and started to rip up their lives. “This is right, this is right.” Gisela had to keep reminding herself. “For my family.” And something snapped within her. The image of her mother, tortured, flashed in her mind. And suddenly everything was worth it. “No regrets.”

Gisela eyed Reiner, an agreement, a sign. She exhaled and in a quick motion placed her hand to her mouth and bit into it. In a spark she transformed into her titan form. Her eyes were much like a cats, sharp. She was made into the slash titan, she was chosen for this program. Her titans fingers were like sharp knives, able to cut any object or person. They hung a little past her knees. 

Reiner then transformed and both stomped past the hole. Many citizens glanced up, horrified. Gisela and Reiner were titans never seen before. 

She nodded to Reiner, bent down and started to pick up debris and pieces of houses to throw over the bigger wall. The chunks started to smash against people. Blood splattering everywhere. Gisela almost wanted to close her eyes from the immense amount of dead bodies piled on top of others, graves upon graves. 

She was hauling boulders as high and fast as she could. Her titan held a high amount of power and strength. Being slim, muscular and as tall as the armored titan and female titan. Reiner took a step back and gained his speed to go onward to destroy the bigger wall. 

“Fire!” Their soldiers cried out. Fear evident on their face. They shot their cannons, not even slowing down Reiner. Gisela continued flinging, wanting to create a path for Reiner. She was faster than before and many of her hits flattened the men in the front lines. Their screams and cries loud. 

“Close the gate!” They tried, it was their last hope to save humanity. But it was not enough. Reiner broke the wall and killed those running and they went flying. They reached even higher than Gisela. It astounded her almost, they seemed like helpless birds flying high in the sky; but that thought was quickly wiped clean because the second they flew up in the air they came straight down with much force that many parts of their bodies broke. 

Reiner did what he needed to do, he opened up a way for the titans to get in and they were swarming by the bunches. 

In the distance, the survivors fled in boats across the river to get into the other walls. Gisela put herself in their shoes for a second. They had reason to be scared. Everything they have ever known was gone; their houses, loved ones, food, a place to feel the most comfortable you can feel despite situations; it was all gone. Gisela shook the thought out, not caring about these cruel humans feelings. They had none. No emotions. Gisela had to believe that thought; what she was told, she had to believe it with all her heart, or else what was real?

They waited till they were able to not be seen and Gisela turned human first and then so did Reiner. The four of them hopped on the boat. Talking amongst themselves. The wind howled through the vacant homes. Destruction everywhere. Gisela looked around her setting and saw a little girl had been crushed because a tree fell on her, her doll mere inches away from her grasp. She died with her eyes open; almost looking into Gisela’s soul through the eyes. Gisela’s body trembled and she threw up. 

“Don’t.”

Gisela looked up to see Reiner wiping blood and debris off his clothes. He picked his sleeve and turned Gisela’s head to look away, he wiped her chin and mouth off the puke. He saw the trauma in her eyes and felt guilty. But it’s what needed to be done. He kept telling himself that the more he did this the more he would understand and get used to it. It was still all new to her and he had to be strong for her. He knelt in front of her small frame. “It’s not your fault. They needed to die. We are in this together. You don’t need them. Look at me.”

Gisela looked into his eyes, away from the sadness. His eyes carried the feeling of wanting to be wanted. That was always what Reiner wanted. But they also had fear in his eyes. 

“Stop acting like you’re in control when I know how sick you feel. I know how afraid you are Reiner.”

He paused and took a look at his hands and others surrounding him. “You’re right. But I made a promise to Marcel.”

They joined the other citizens arriving at the food reserves. The master of disguise was needed in this mission. People needed to see four hungry, depressed children that survived the fall of their homes, not mass murderers. 

Annie was only able to fetch two loaves. “Alright, who's the most hungry?”

“You girls should eat, you’re more feeble.” Bertholdt sat on a crate, pointing to Gisela and Annie. 

Annie tsked, moving a bang from her eyes, “who says girls are more feeble? I recall kicking your ass all those times in training.”

“You guys can eat it, I’m not hungry.” Gisela sat on the other crate and saw the chaos of the crowds. A boy caught her interest. He had dark brown hair, tan skin, and light blue green eyes. He was having bread shoved in his mouth and he seemed to have such a strong personality to him. If only Gisela felt so strongly about her motive and her placement in this life. 

“You really should eat, you need your energy after all you did.” Annie broke all the loaves in half and shared it amongst the four of you. “It’s not much but at least it's something.”

Gisela sighed, “you’re right. Thanks.”

After that day there was land given to only a few refugees but there were too many of them. Luckily the four of them had a piece of land that was enough until further inching themselves within society. Through that whole span each day was getting easier and easier living with the lies and day by day Gisela felt more at sure with herself and knowing that she could fulfill this mission. Pills and alcohol helped the pain and ease the thoughts. She taught herself to put a gap between what she came here to do and feelings. She told herself every day that nobody else mattered except her family and Reiner. She trained her brain to not care, to not have strings attached or any love for anything. It was all a play, all a rehearsal for when the curtain would fall. She was readying herself for that fall. Everyday she educated herself more on these scums. What they liked, wanted, needed, craved for, and what they craved more than ever in their life was freedom. 

She trained her body as if it were her last day, barely getting sleep. The face of her mother haunting her every night making her get up at three in the morning to do pushups or sit ups. Not only was her mind getting stronger but also her body. Even Reiner would make jokes noticing the muscles that would appear. The six pack that formed on her stomach. Her thighs growing tight and firm, her arms growing stronger. The sweat growing on her forehead longer. 

With her body growing her relationship with Reiner also changed. They no longer were the tiny children that didn’t understand anatomy or the air between two people. Reiner and Gisela’s relationship was of being flirty, sharing a few kisses here and there, trying to be a couple but then yelling at each other and breaking it up and realizing maybe this isn’t right a million times. Even Bertholdt and Annie were getting tired of their outbursts. But each time they made up to be friends only and then the cycle started where the feelings came in the way and they wanted to be more. They would tease each other, especially Reiner. They were each other's best friends. Gisela was like one of the boys, loud, obnoxious, burping all the time, Reiner would get a look at her and smirk thinking he taught her well. When Reiner looked at her he felt at home and that everything was going to be okay. Her nightmares continued and each time Reiner would come to her room and hold her, let her cry into his arms. She felt he was the only person that knew her pain. 

Gisela understood many things in life and for once she understood her life here, she understood why she was born and chosen. 

It was the following year and in order to get closer to finding the founding titan the four became part of the 104th cadet corps. 

“Are you ready to train more?” Gisela nudged Reiner, eyebrow raised.

“What do you mean train more? This is going to be a new but scary experience honestly.” Reiner spoke as if he was a different person. As if he didn’t have a life outside of the walls. 

“Reiner?” Gisela placed her hand on his shoulder, steadying him. He looked fine on the outside but Gisela knew the issues were inside, his mind. She knew this was becoming disastrous to him, he was starting to have almost two personalities, two lives, two worlds, two people. Gisela tried to tell Annie or Bertholdt, they saw it too but there was nothing they could do. 

All that Gisela could do was smile as they made their way to the first day of training. 

note: again ty y’all sm!!!! If u liked it lmk and this is kinda new for me cuz I usually don’t post my ocs stories here or much at all but I’m rlly excited for y’all to see her and for y’all to know this oc of mine and hopefully accept her ❤️

Taglist: @witchofinterest @chlobenet @eddysocs @fpxloomis @whctsherncme-archive @ocfairygodmother @fandomchick80 @ocappreciationtag

#aot oc #ocappreciation #ochub #attack on titan #snk #shingeki no kyojin #snk oc #aot #shingeki no kyoujin oc #gisela klein #everything stays #attack on titan oc #my ocs #reiner braun #reiner braun x reader #reiner Braun x oc #levi ackerman #eren jaeger #original character #aot imagines #aot x oc #aot x reader #aot edit #aot manga #reiner x gisela klein #mikasa ackerman #armin arlert

[irwintry]

Jean Jacket

Warnings: swearing, alcohol, drug mention

Summary: Y/N and Luke have been best friends, but they haven’t seen each other in years. Based loosely off of the song “Jean Jacket” by The Summer Set.

Word Count: 9.5k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You messaged him at 10:14 in the morning. It felt unnatural, and a knot formed in your stomach once you hit send.

You:

hey.

string bean

He didn’t reply until 6:24 that night.

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Don’t call me that.

I’m toned now.

You:

oh my bad

what’s a thicc vegetable

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

I don’t know

You:

you have cool hair

so do asparagus’

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Don’t call me asparagus.

You:

sorry

sexy stalk of corn

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

I hate you

You:

i love u squid

should i learn how to use photoshop

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Absolutely not

I don’t want to be photoshopped onto corn

What do you want?

You:

oh sorry am i bothering u

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Yes

You:

:o

rude

string bean

Message not delivered.

why aren’t my messages sending

did u block me

wtf asshole

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Hehe

You:

i'm gonna kick ur ass

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Good luck reaching it.

You:

ok getting on a plane rn

and jokes on u

i'm bringing a step ladder w me

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

I’ll pay

You:

bet?

did u just fucking venmo me

squid????

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Maybe

You:

luke

do u want me to visit u

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

I just venmo’d you

You:

wait do u rly want me to visit u

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Yeah.

You:

wait ok shit... when works best for u

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Literally whenever

You:

don’t u have tours and shit

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Not for five months

You:

oh fuck.

ok I’ll start looking

shit dude

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

I miss you.

You:

i miss u 2 squid

sorry i mean

string bean

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

JK. Can you venmo me back?

You:

no fuck u

it’s mine now

-

You weren’t in airports often.

You never grew accustomed to the atmosphere–– the hustle and bustle of business class and the lack of knives in terminal restaurants. You had no reason to be acquainted. Yet, there was still a familiar panic that gripped you as you stood shoeless and alone in the line for security. The terminals were each a maze of their own, and the heavy Jansport hanging off of your shoulder pushed down against your tight muscles.

You preferred traveling with another person. In fact, you preferred to not travel at all. The comfort of your home held Jeopardy re-runs and take-out Chinese. Whereas your terminal had startling gate announcements and overpriced froyo, and they didn’t even have toppings. The bathrooms smelled of poo no matter what time you chose to use them, and you sat on the toilet in mild discomfort, suitcase meshed between you in the broken metal stall. The same abandoned luggage announcement had played sixteen times since your arrival through security.

But you tried to think about the positive outcome of your travel. You saw yourself running up to him, hands slipping the bulky luggage to the ground as you threw your arms around him. He stood there smiling and calling you old nicknames you had been forced to read over text for six to seven years. And then he would take your hand and guide you to his car, his ever-present smile never faltering because you were there, and he was with you. It would be just like old times.

You thought about all of the places you would go and the people you would meet. Anxiety puddled your head when you thought about meeting his friends. They were untouchable, glamor and gold and all things Hollywood untold. And you were you, but Luke had changed, too.

-

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Still arriving at 6:13 in Terminal B?

You:

u bet ur (terminal B)um

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

That was one of your worst.

You:

ur right i gotta work on my comebacks on the flight

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

That wasn’t a comeback...?

You:

tHat WasN’t a CoMebAcK

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Die.

-

You fell asleep on the flight.

Economy class forced you between a professor in his mid-forties and an athletic coach whose knees nudged against yours every time he shifted. You had started the flight off with a movie, some Anna Kendrick rom-com that stimulated a headache worth three bottles of Ibuprofen. Soon enough you were hobbling over long legs, bladder aching from an unbearable pressure, and then the lavatory was occupied.

You filled the next few hours with a playlist you had made for the flight. Luke’s songs lulled you to sleep–– but you wouldn’t tell him that. You wouldn’t grant him the satisfaction, not unless the moment called for it. That moment only occurred a few times within a year. That moment occurred during the times he came to you when he thought he had no one else.

And you would never tell him how selfish you felt. You would never admit that you loved those moments because you felt important. You felt like he needed you.

You weren’t sure how long you had been asleep for after you woke. The plane was dark and quiet, and not a soul breathed a word. So, you settled down into your seat and kept the light of your phone low. The time was 5:35 in the morning.

The airplane awakened a little after six o’clock, brightness flooding in followed by a chorus of groans and moans. You toyed with the sleeves of your jacket and felt incredibly small. The nerves in your chest simmered, and you thought about the shaky steps you would soon take to reach the arms of an old friend. You didn’t know why the blistering excitement felt so bad. You wanted to sit back down and take a one-way flight all the way back home.

-

Luke was in airports all too often.

He grew accustomed to suitcases rattling against filthy marble floors. He memorized the high-pitched, buzzy tone of squeaking escalators in frequented terminals. The familiarity overwhelmed him, and he had almost convinced himself he was among the many travelers on this day.

But he stood alone, not a single ounce of hurry in his bones while he waited for the arrival of an old best friend. The rising sun outside seeped through the large glass windows, yet the warm colors touched his back and kept his chest cold. He wanted your embrace, and he wanted the heat of your smile. Because he didn’t quite remember how it made him feel. He saw your face through pictures and videos, but the comfort of your presence faded from his memories.

Strangers eyed him. He could picture them searching the depths of their brain and wondering why they knew him. At the moment, he wished he wasn’t known. He wished he was seventeen again, the year the excitement was fresh and when the world didn’t seem so small. He wished he still knew you like he had back then.

Luke was tired.

-

Kermit the little bitch frog 🐸:

i need some fucking food

He felt nauseous and numb as he laughed at your words. It was like stage fright, like the intense, sickening nerves had hadn’t felt in years. His fingers trembled against the screen of his phone.

Kermit the little bitch frog 🐸:

also where r u

can u meet at baggage claim

i get nervous when i have to pick up my bag

i get scared that i’m gonna miss it

is that weird

Luke’s stomach knotted, and he typed out a quick affirmation while he kept his eyes locked on the small crowd of faces. Faces that looked like they hadn’t slept in forty years. But then again, Luke felt as though he looked the same way.

Kermit the little bitch frog 🐸:

what happens if i miss my bag

Luke:

It comes back around.

Don’t worry

Kermit the little bitch frog 🐸:

fffuckkkkkk customs

Luke:

Lol.

Kermit the little bitch frog 🐸:

escalators escalators escalators

Luke:

Eels.

-

Luke swallowed the bile rising to his throat. It had been years. He hadn’t seen you face-to-face in years, and he still wondered what it was about the moment that made him nervous. The anxiety caused him to shiver, and he tugged the sleeves of his sweater up and under his fingers. His eyes ached from lack of sleep, but he hoped your energy would change that. He hoped his nerves would ease the minute you opened your mouth. All he wanted was for it to feel natural.

He thought he saw you. He thought he had immediately recognized you from across the room, but the stranger was in a dress. Luke knew you would never––in your right mind––wear a dress to travel anywhere. So, he kept his eyes on the person as they walked away, and then there was a tap on his shoulder.

“Hey Squid.”

Luke glanced to his right, heart stammering in his chest at the sound of your voice. You were smiling, your eyes tired yet warm while the jean jacket you wore swallowed you whole. His jean jacket.

“You busy later?”

He cleared his throat and reached up to brush a few hairs away from his face. He didn’t know how to speak or initiate any kind of touch. He didn’t know how to talk to you anymore. “Yeah, sorry,” he mumbled with a small smile. “Got plans.”

“Ah.” You nodded. “You do?”

Luke hummed. He stuffed his hands in his pockets to keep them from shaking. “Meeting up with this old friend,” he said. “They flew all this way t’see me, and to be honest, that was kinda dumb of them.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” you replied with a laugh. “We gonna hug or just like, stand here looking like assholes?”

“The latter,” he said, and you rolled your eyes. Luke laughed as he allowed himself to push down nerves and throw his arms around you. It was a warm hug, just like he wanted it to be. “I see you still got that fuckin’ jacket.”

“Technically, it’s your jacket,” you said, pulling away. Your hair was messy, but he found it endearing. You looked like his best friend even though the years had separated the two of you. You looked soft and sweet, and he didn’t know why he wanted to keep holding you.

You nodded to yourself. “Got my suitcase,” you told him. “No thanks to you. In case you didn’t know, this isn’t baggage claim.”

“Shit,” he muttered. “’m sorry. I’m tired.”

“Oh, sorry to bother you,” you replied, smiling brightly before sending him a wink. “I’ll be going then.” You took a few steps toward the door.

Luke caught your arm. “No, no, you’re not leaving me. We’ve come this far. You’re stuck with me.”

“Oh, joy.”

“I don’t need your sarcasm, babe,” he said, and two of you made your way outside into the cool morning.

You stumbled behind him, your suitcase smacking against large chunks of concrete on the sidewalk. “Babe? Shit. I just shuttered.”

Luke chuckled. His nerves hadn’t disappeared, but he tried hard to ignore them. He felt out of place. He felt as though his head and his body did not exist on the same plane. He felt like he was caught in a dream. Or maybe it was a nightmare.

“Hey, Lu?” You yawned and curled yourself up in the passenger seat of his car.

Luke thought you looked too damn good. He wanted to tell you. “If you put your feet on my dash, I’ll kill you,” he said instead.

You mumbled something incoherent.

Luke slid his keys into the ignition. “Okay, well, that was not English,” he said, “but nice try.”

“Shut up. I’m tired.”

“I’m tired,” he mocked.

You hit his arm, and his laughter filled the small car. “I’ll kill you first. I was gonna ask you if we can get breakfast, but I changed my mind.”

Luke kept his eyes on the road ahead of him, but he ached to look over at you. He ached to take you in and memorize you like he had done over seven years ago. “We can get breakfast, babe,” he said quietly, glancing your way, and then he smiled. Your knees were pressed to your chest, and you had closed your eyes.

At the stop sign, Luke waited a moment to accelerate. The sunrise painted gold into the sky and onto your skin. He wondered if you had always looked this beautiful. He wondered if he had ever thought so before. All he could remember was the present, and every memory was drowned out by the soft scent of your perfume in his car.

The jean jacket you wore had been his once. He never saw how it looked on you. And he never imagined that the sight of you in it would one day take his breath away.

-

“Do you think I should leave it unbuttoned like this?”

“You’re really asking for my opinion on that?”

“Yes.”

You narrowed your gaze.

“Okay, you’re right,” he said, “unbuttoned it is.”

You rolled your eyes. “Love that my opinion is so valued.”

It had only been a day. Your body clock had yet to reset to the time difference, and you spent the afternoon prior knocked out on Luke’s bed with Petunia cuddled against your stomach. It hadn’t been a terrible way to nap, although your neck ached when you woke. The situation was still surreal. You still refused to believe you had traveled across the globe to visit someone you felt like you hardly knew. Except you did know him. He was Luke. He ate his gummy worms with peanut butter.

Yet, your eyes lingered on his figure on your way into his kitchen. You gazed a little too long when he talked about his plans with you. Whenever he nudged your shoulder or poked your arm, you thought about his touch for a few minutes after. It had only been a day.

And it didn’t take long for him to invite you out to a club.

You didn’t like the feeling of the leather seats against your thighs on the drive into the city. Your shorts had ridden up, and you had the sense that something about the night was off. It wasn’t the intoxicating fragrance of Luke’s cologne or the exposed bit of chest that drove you wild. It wasn’t the unbroken melody he sang loudly or the expensive boots that added an inch or two to his already-towering height. It was how expensive he looked–– how untouchable he was. You had thrift your jean shorts for $15, and Luke was missing a button off of his designer shirt. But there was something else about the night that bothered you, and you couldn’t quite place it. So, you belted along to his favorite songs and pretended as though you didn’t feel sick to your stomach.

Luke’s smile hardly faltered throughout the night. He introduced you to faces you assumed you would never see again, and then he would buy you another drink without asking. You could feel his energy, and not even the blasting bass could distract you from the weight of his laughter. He knew everyone, but it didn’t come as a shock. He had always loved people, and people had always loved him.

So, you sat quietly on the couch, feeling miles apart yet inches away at best. You twirled the tiny straw with two fingers and watched your old best friend bounce from person to person. He had a big heart, you told yourself, he loved people. But the thoughts never pushed down the sinking feeling that he had forgotten about you. It was halfway through the night, and you had been sitting alone for forty-seven minutes. Luke was nowhere to be seen.

You:

luke

You placed your phone in between your thighs. One single text had sent your heart into your throat, and you weren’t sure why. You weren’t sure why you felt so sick at the thought of his response.

You:

r u ok

where’d u go

A few strangers crowded around the couch Luke placed you at. It was his usual spot, he said. No one ever took his spot. But you sat alone, and not a soul cared to join you. They knew you didn’t belong here.

You:

string bean

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

I’m okay.

:-)

You sighed, letting your head rest against the leather cushion while you watched drunken interactions play out. A song you recognized played throughout the cramped club, and you wished you were anywhere else. You wished you were on a bench overlooking the ocean with a bag of tacos separating you and your friend. You wished you were on the bike path by your house, hand-in-hand with someone you had known all too well. You wished you hadn’t fallen witness to a life you had no part in. You wished you could be the person he wanted you to be.

You:

ok i’m just chillin

The empty glass from your drink had perspired onto the table. After a while, the heat of the room had melted the ice as well, and you were stuck wishing you could conjure up the courage to join the crowd. But you couldn’t. You felt out of place, like you didn’t quite belong. All eyes told you so. You carried on waiting, but you were no longer sure what it was you were waiting for.

You:

r u getting hungry

You stopped waiting for a response after fifteen minutes. Luke had left you for two hours in a club, in some town you had never been to before. He had left you, and you had only been with him for a day. An unsettling feeling grew in your stomach, but you wanted to reject it as much as you could. It was Luke, the boy who shot carrots out of his Nerf Guns but ended up giving himself a black eye. It had to be the same Luke.

You gathered up some strength to stand up. The battery on your phone had been roasted from too many games of Solitaire, and Luke still wasn’t answering your texts. You reached down for your sweating drink, but a pair of arms wrapped themselves around your shoulders before you could.

“Sleepy,” he said, smushing his face against your back. “Why do you smell like pancakes?”

Your body felt frozen beneath his touch. Every muscle tensed. “I don’t,” you replied. “Can we–– can we go? Is that okay?”

Luke’s arms slid off of you, and you could feel his presence now to the right of you. And for some reason, your head hurt at the thought of looking at him. Yet, you did. His curls had slicked down against his rosy, albeit shiny skin, and his eyes were red and droopy. For those few seconds, you weren’t sure why you had thought him attractive. But it quickly changed. He was looking at you, completely looking at you, and he could tell something was wrong.

“Yeah,” he said, his lips falling into a frown. “Course. You okay?”

You nodded and swallowed back the aching tears that threatened in your eyes. “Jet-lagged,” you mumbled. “That’s all.”

Luke nodded, too. “Okay. Yeah. We can go. I’ll get us an Uber.”

“What will you do about your car?”

He seemed to shrug it off, but it was hard to tell through the mass of sweaty bodies. “She’ll be fine. I’ll find a way to get her.”

“I’m sorry.” You hugged your arms close to your chest as the heat from the club transformed into the cool night air.

“No big deal,” said Luke. “Just another Uber trip to come get her. Then I can take her right back.”

“No, um, about leaving,” you responded. “I’m sorry that I wanted t’leave.”

Luke glanced at you from over his shoulder, brows furrowed and lip tugged between his teeth. “Don’t be, babe. I was gonna leave soon anyway.”

You nodded, and an uneasy silence settled in the air. You wished for the right words to say, but you brain went blank, and you found yourself counting cars that passed by.

“It’s really good to see you again,” said Luke after a while. His voice was low and hoarse, and it made you feel a new type of warmth. “Forgot what it was like t’be with you. It’s nice. Like a breath of fresh air.”

You smiled at him, but you knew that was all you could do.

“Missed you a lot.” He smiled at you, too, and through that smile, he whispered, “I’m just really happy you’re here.”

-

Luke thought it hurt to look at you. Because when he did, he was reminded of the person he had left behind, the person he could have been had he stayed. You reminded him of a lost potential within himself, and he didn’t like it. It made him feel dejected, like a lost cause. And looking at you caused much more pain than that. Looking at you was like looking at the world in color for the first time. He saw you differently, and he wondered if this was how he was always supposed to see you.

It was unavoidable— the dawning feeling that only worsened every day. You had only been with him for a week. A whole week of stealing glances and swallowing down irritant thoughts that a best friend shouldn’t have. A part of him felt like he couldn’t call himself that. He felt like he knew you, but he didn’t know you. He read your personality through words and not actions. Maybe it was time he opened his eyes to the person you had become.

-

Kermit the little bitch frog 🐸:

can u not send me tweets rn

u r literally right next to me

loser

Luke:

Can you not be rude?

Kermit the little bitch frog 🐸:

no

Luke:

Fight me.

Kermit the little bitch frog 🐸:

hehe ok

kinky

Luke:

Shut up

Kermit the little bitch frog 🐸:

i feel the sexual tension already

-

Luke took a breath and glanced your way. The afternoon had been spent with his friends; a brimming beer cup soirée spent around the fire in Calum’s backyard. And for some reason, Luke felt like an anomaly. He had better luck counting the hairs on his leg than concentrating on a single conversation. Meanwhile, you cradled your first drink of the night, torso hidden behind the heavy jean jacket he once owned. Beneath it, only a floral bathing suit covered you, and it was enough to make Luke wonder why he had bothered leaving home in the first place.

He couldn’t hear what his friends said, but he could focus in on every little thing about you. From the shape of your legs, all tucked in beneath you to the small smile you wore as you listened to his friends speak. Your hair had dried from the few minutes you spent in the pool, and after a while, you pulled it out of your face and up into a bun. Luke thought you looked pretty, and he knew it wasn’t the initial heat of the fire that warmed him.

But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something else was wrong. You were quiet––timid almost––while you gazed at the palm shadows against the sunset. Even beyond the smiles, you seemed lost. Luke wanted to know why.

-

Luke:

You hungry?

Kermit the little bitch frog 🐸:

fucking starving

tell cal to get better snacks

Luke:

Lol.

I want tacos

Kermit the little bitch frog 🐸:

yoooooooooooooo

can we get tacos?

Luke:

Let’s get some fucking tacos

-

You hadn’t realized how hard it would be.

Luke started a new life for himself seven years prior, and it messed up your world for a while. It had messed up plans and memories you wanted to make with him. You started your own life without the company of your best friend, but he was still a text message away whenever you needed. Because he was still your friend. He still told you every little detail about his life. You knew how things had changed for him, whether they were for better or worse.

You hadn’t realized you would one day face the life he chose for himself. You hadn’t realized how hard it would be. He was the same, but he was so different. Being here simply acted as a reminder that you no longer fit into his life.

It came to you in heavy waves. When the overall reality hit, it hit like a sheet of sadness. You were washed over by emotions while Luke carried on about his favorite restaurant in Italy. You had never been to Italy or France or Spain. You had never been on grandiose adventures, not like Luke. It only hurt because you wished you had been by his side.

The two of you swung by his place for a change of clothes. There was an unexplainable silence that you chose not to break. You felt as though any word from your lips would feel forced, so you kept quiet instead. When you walked back out into the living room in an old tee and leggings, Luke was already there. He was already waiting for you in the patchy jean jacket that you treasured simply because it once belonged to him.

“Still fits, I guess,” he said, and you smiled. It was like old times, so you took a picture of the moment. Luke shot a goofy grin your way, and you had to pretend like it didn’t make your stomach flutter.

“Are there are any taco places you know of that are still open?” you asked Luke after settling into the car. You kept your hands pressed between your thighs. “I’m not really feeling like shitting my pants at a Taco Bell.”

Luke laughed. “Yeah, I know a place.” He turned on the ignition, and right off the bat, a song by The Summer Set began to blast through the speakers. And it felt like a tension had been swept away with the music.

He kept the windows down as you drove, his one hand firm on the wheel and the other out against the breeze. When he sang, he sang low. You couldn’t find it in yourself to sing at all. You could hardly look at him. Yet, you had given into temptation. You gazed at him during the verses and glanced away at the choruses, letting the city lights seep in while you listened to his soft voice. Luke drummed on the wheel during the upbeat melodies, and you found yourself reminiscing on old memories no matter how much you wanted to repress them.

He had always been an awkward kid. The heart on his sleeve never faded or splintered–– it just grew with each passing day. His presence made any form of discomfort wash away, and it still felt that way now. But, as people do, he had changed, and you struggled to find the good in everything. Around you, it was the same Luke you knew. Around others, he had built up a façade for himself. It broke your heart.

Street lamps glistened against the pavement as rain drizzled down. It didn’t last long, and the droplets on the windshield soon dried, but it left an earthy petrichor in the air. A comforting scent that only came with rain. The breeze slipped through your fingers, and you soon felt the words of familiar songs bubble in your chest. They left your lips a second later just as you began to smile. There was something oddly beautiful about the melancholy moment.

So, Luke sang loudly, his hands hitting the wheel while you cried your favorite lyrics. It all came rushing back, and the sorrow melted away. You wished Luke had never left, but you were happy to have this night with him.

-

You unwrapped your taco on your lap. “I’m not gonna tell you you’re wrong for putting that much sour cream on your taco,” you said, kicking your feet out on the stone wall before you, “but you disgust me.”

The waves crashed along the shoreline in the distance, and the beach was dark and eerie. It didn’t matter that it was ten o’clock at night–– the nearby park was busy and loud.

“Oh, I forgot to ask,” said Luke, “is it okay if I put sour cream on my taco?”

You kicked his thigh as he broke out in hysterics, and you thought, this is it–– this is what I’ve been waiting for.

“If you get that shit on my jacket, I’ll kill you,” you responded, meanwhile taking an unattractive bite out of the hard shell of your taco. Shredded cheese fell to the ground below.

“Isn’t it technically my jacket?”

You shrugged “Maybe if you had actually bothered keeping it.”

Luke let out a small gasp, and a large dollop of sour cream plopped against the wrapping on his lap. “Maybe if you were smart enough, you’d realize I let you keep it.”

“Oh, shit. That stings.”

“Good.”

“Fuck you,” you said with a laugh. “I deserved to keep it. I was the one who added all of those patches anyway.”

Luke furrowed his brows. “Not true. I added––“ He twisted around and pointed at a small bunny patch on the shoulder. “––this one.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” you said, sarcasm dripping from your tongue. “You deserve more credit for the tiny bunny patch you found on the side of the road.”

“Thank you.” Luke sighed and grinned, sending a wink your way before biting into his sour cream-coated taco.

You watched the hard-shell crack and fall apart beneath his grip, and you watched as he pouted once the food hit his lap. You stared for too long, burning the image of him in your brain until you were confident it was permanently in there. It burned a little too hot and for a little too long. It continued to burn along the highway while the waves stirred beside you. You were nestled between the hills and the ocean, a cute boy to your left and a strip of heaven laid down before you.

Luke drove for an hour, taking exit after exit until he pulled off near the mouth of a lake in the mountains. The air was stale yet breezy, and exhaustion overwhelmed you. But you kept your eyes from drooping just so you could keep looking at the person you hadn’t realized you missed.

“Come home soon,” you whispered into the dark night. Bugs and other creatures hummed in the distance, meanwhile, you kicked up the crumbled pavement and leaned back against his car. “It hasn’t been home without you.”

Luke let out a quiet laugh, but it was muffled between his lips. “Gonna get all sappy on me now, huh, babe?” he asked, but his smile soon fell when his head turned to face you. He swallowed and faced the stagnant water ahead. “I wanna come home,” he said, “but I feel like I don’t belong there anymore.”

“You’ve always belonged.”

Luke didn’t speak.

“I don’t belong here,” you said, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. You had expected an outrageous reaction, something that assured you that he thought you did belong. But he stayed quiet. “This whole city, this place, it’s–– I mean it’s wonderful. I love it. But it’s not me.”

“It’s weird to have you here,” said Luke. His voice had lowered into a faint hush, yet you felt it in your bones. “Not bad weird. You’re just home. You feel like home. I’m not used to that here.”

“You’re home,” you mumbled.

Luke didn’t waste another moment. He pulled you into a hug, one that reminded you of teenage years and restless late nights. It reminded you of a warmth you lost, of strong arms that hadn’t held you in seven years. His chest expanded with each breath, and you listened closely to the air as it left his lips. And then you couldn’t help but dig your fingers into the rough denim along his back. You couldn’t help but press yourself against his chest in order to feel his heartbeat in sync with yours. You ached to embrace his scent–– you ached to embrace everything about him.

There was something in the air as you pulled away, something thicker than the hint of humidity. Whatever it was, you had trouble letting go of Luke. It felt like you had stood there for ages, just staring at his chest and holding onto his waist as if your life depended on it. You felt like crying, and you felt nervous. Something about his presence made you nervous.

When you looked up, Luke had already been looking down at you. A small smile was playing on his lips, and you could hardly see the twinkle in his eye through the dark night. But you weren’t focusing on his eyes. You focused in on that smile, the one that stretched his smooth, pink lips just slightly. The one that kindled some spark in your chest, and you couldn’t look away.

Luke placed a hand on your jaw, his long, slim fingers cradling you in a soft manner. “You okay?” he asked breathily.

You replayed his words in your head and thought about the ways his lips moved around them. No, you weren’t okay. But you didn’t mind the feeling.

“Yeah,” you whispered. You could feel your heartbeat in your ears. At the same time, it felt like you couldn’t breathe. The desire to kiss him was overwhelming, and it ached and ached. You tightened your grip on his waist, eyes flickering back up to where his lips had pulled into a concerned pout.

Luke let out a breath and tugged his bottom lip between his teeth. His fingers were firm on the back of your head, and then he pulled you in. His lips were on yours, hard yet passion-filled, and neither of you could move. But when he ran out of air, Luke pulled away slowly. His top lip brushed yours as he moved, yet the pressure never left. It still felt like he was kissing you.

Luke had kissed you. And you hadn’t wanted him to stop.

You smiled, fingers toying with the opening of his jean jacket as you glanced down at your shoes. “That was new,” you said lowly.

He laughed, meanwhile running his thumb along the apple of your cheek. It made you feel safe. “Sure was,” he mumbled. “Not bad, though.”

“No,” you replied, looking up. His gaze was intense, but it was the kind of intensity that summoned butterflies. You shrugged. “Not bad at all.”

“Good,” said Luke. “Cos I was plannin’ on kissing you again, but I wasn’t sure if we were on the same page, or––“

You tugged him in and leaned forward to press your lips on his again. You felt him smile against the kiss, and you had to smile, too. Luke’s opposite hand met your other cheek as the kiss deepened. You didn’t mind it–– you had no reason to mind it. In fact, you loved it. You craved it. It was warm and soft, and it made your toes curl. His lips felt like velvet. The heat crawled up into your chest, but the kiss soon ended before the moment carried on.

You felt lighter than air. Small puffs of air escaped your lips while you tried to laugh. And Luke was laughing, too. You were each other’s best friend, and you had kissed.

“Wanna keep driving?” Luke asked you, tracing your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb.

You grinned and nodded before pecking his lips. And then you skipped over to the passenger seat to once again fill the night with new memories to be made.

-

Luke grabbed your hand and laced your fingers with his while The Summer Set continued to blast throughout his car. It felt good to touch you, to finally feel you after all of these years. For some reason, he craved your touch even more now. It had only been a week, yet Luke quickly realized the effect you had on him. It had never been like this before, and he was relieved to know you felt the same way, too. He couldn’t get enough of you.

He wanted every piece of you.

“Should we head back home?” you asked at around two in the morning, lips red from the 7-Eleven slushie you were slurping.

Luke smiled at your appearance. His heart swelled at the sight of you so comfortable in his company. It made him want to hold you and never let go. “You gettin’ tired, babe?”

You giggled. “Never said that.”

Luke’s face physically ached from the weight of his grin.

“I like it when you call me that,” you said.

“Hm?”

“When you call me ‘babe’,” you spoke. “I like it.”

Luke felt a chill rush over him. He wanted to call you “babe” every single fucking day–– he never wanted to stop. “Yeah, babe?”

You hummed.

Luke’s hand instinctively reached out to place itself on your thigh, and he froze. But you didn’t react. When he looked over, your smile hadn’t left.

“Is this okay?” he asked you, fingers burning and shifting against your leggings. His eyes left the road for a split second to watch you nod. Luke smiled again and squeezed your thigh, emitting a quick squeal from you. The sound was music to his ears, and he couldn’t believe how fast he had fallen for everything about you.

The silence that fell over was comfortable.

“Is this what Brian felt like when he wrote Passenger Seat?” you asked after a while.

Luke glanced at you, smile still wide as he slowly replied, “it’s exactly what he felt.”

He took you down to a small beach off of the beaten path after that. The waves were loud, almost violent as he kept his hand firmly locked with yours. The breeze had picked up, but he could still hear your teeth chattering through the gusts.

“Gosh, sure is nice to have a jacket to keep me warm right now,” said Luke while he set himself down into the sand.

“Sh-shut the fuck up,” you muttered, plopping right beside him. “You’re such a fucking j-jackass.”

Luke laughed and took off his jacket, nevertheless. You pulled it over you before falling against him, head nestling onto his shoulder as you brought your knees up for warmth.

“It’s so dark,” you said a few moments later. “Did you come here to murder me?”

“How’d you know?” gasped Luke.

You shoved him away, he only tugged you in closer. You set your head on his lap, and the two of you sat there for thirty minutes in complete silence. He hadn’t wanted to stay quiet–– he had so many things bouncing about in his brain, but he couldn’t find it in himself to say a single word. He couldn’t tell you that this week had been the best week of his entire life, and he couldn’t beg you to stay. He couldn’t keep you in a city you hated to be in.

It had hurt to hear you say that, but he didn’t disagree. Los Angeles didn’t fit you; it never would, no matter how much he wanted you to stay with him. You belonged in comforting towns, ones filled with life and love but held hopes and dreams high. You belonged with him, yet he wasn’t sure where he belonged either. It was too painful to think about.

So, Luke kissed your forehead and ran his fingers along your arm. If he could hold you forever, then he wouldn’t have to think about anything else. He wouldn’t have to think about saying goodbye to you within the next week. He wouldn’t have to think about losing all of the built-up feelings that had surfaced within the past few days. He wouldn’t have to think about losing you.

You were curled up in the passenger seat of his car on the ride home. Your eyes had succumbed to exhaustion at the beach, and he carried you all the way back without stirring you awake. It filled his heart with so much love to see you so calm and peaceful–– he wanted to take you home and hold you for the rest of his life. But he couldn’t do that. He buckled you in, kissed your forehead once more, and then drove home in silence. It left him alone with his thoughts, and he didn’t like that.

“Lu?” Your eyes fluttered open as he unbuckled you and prepared to take you into his home.

“Mornin’, darling,” he said, cracking a smile.

You hummed. “You don’t have t’carry me,” you said, “but thank you.” You rubbed at your tired eyes, and he grabbed your hands to help lift you out of the car. You fell against him and pulled him into a tight hug.

He chuckled, but he didn’t say anything. He just held you close.

“I’ve missed you so much,” you mumbled into his shirt. You leaned back to look up at him.

Luke smiled, and he felt like the luckiest man in the world. He kissed you softly before pulling you back into a hug. “I’ve missed you, too.”

-

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

On my way home.

Still okay with going to the party?

You:

ya i wanna black out and vomit in a pool

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Please do not do that.

You:

don’t poop on my party

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

It’s technically not your party

You:

party pooper

stinky pooper

ur stinky

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

You’re stinky.

You:

yes

-

The next day was weird.

It felt like the night prior had been some drug-induced dream filled with romcom storylines inside a coming-of-age film. It was an old memory resurfaced–– a moment you had shared with him many years prior. Things changed so suddenly.

And neither of you spoke of it. You didn’t know how to. At the same time, you weren’t sure you wanted to.

It had been beautiful in the moment, but thinking back, you weren’t sure it had been a good idea. Luke was Luke, a famous rock star living among the elites in Lost Angeles, and you were a shell of a best friend, old remnants of a life he used to live. You weren’t the one for him, and you never had been. He had too many choices before him; he wouldn’t choose his best friend.

A friend was hosting a birthday party, one you assumed would involve a cake and stupid decorations, perhaps presents as well. But the house was packed upon arrival, and it felt more like a frat party than anything. You wished you had known, yet you fisted the skirt of your black dress and ambled in behind Luke, feeling more like a lost puppy than ever.

Because he had always been a people person. He had always loved people.

You lost him at some point in the night. You scoured the premises, searching for his bright red button-down amongst the sea of illustrious eyes. And then there was you, looking sad and somewhat angry while you searched for your best friend. He had done this only a week ago. He had left you to fend for yourself against a pack of B-list wolves. You hardly felt human in comparison.

Sweat had accumulated against your back while you wandered the crowded rooms. You admired the architecture through a Mike’s Hard haze, wishing you had left town when Luke did to maybe make a name for yourself in and amongst the wealthy. The guilt would have eaten you alive; it would have been all at Luke’s expense.

You found him in the kitchen at one point during the night. He stood there with his friends crowded around, a dazzling yet drunken smile etched on his features, and it seemed as though his eyes alone lit the whole room. The knot building in your stomach was uncomfortable. His laugh echoed, and you had to excuse yourself before he could glance your way.

So, you wandered again and retraced your steps, wondering if you would ever know your place in a world this big. It felt like you never would.

You hadn’t gotten black-out drunk, nor did you vomit in a stranger’s pool. Instead, you sat by that pool with your feet plunged into the illuminated water, fingers still cradling the neck of your lemonade while you listened to strangers talk. The bright blue below made you feel sick, so you stared up at the light-polluted sky and hoped for the night to be over soon.

And then there was a tap on your shoulder.

“Jesus Christ–– thought I lost ya for good,” said Luke, voice hoarse and slurred while he slumped down onto the brick beside you. He stuck his feet in the water without rolling up his pants.

“Nope,” you mumbled. “Been here.”

Luke was smiley, and the freckles on his nose seemed more prominent under the teal hue from the pool.

“Where’d you go?” you asked him, yet your heart ached at the thought of him leaving you the way he did. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Uh, y’know.” Luke shrugged. “This, there, n’ that.”

You shook your head. “No. I don’t know.”

“I’ve been looking for you,” said Luke, fingers running along the surface of the water before gently splashing your knees. “Wanted t’show my girl around. People kept asking ‘bout you.”

“Your–– your girl?” The words rattled around in your brain, but at the moment, they didn’t settle quite right. They would have sounded wonderful the night prior. But you weren’t property. You weren’t his girl.

Luke glanced at you, eyes shiny and dark, and his lips tugged into a lazy smile. He smelled of whiskey sour and bourbon, a combination that made your stomach churn. You admitted his proximity intimidated you, and you admitted that you wanted nothing more than to go back to last night.

Suddenly, Luke was leaning in to kiss you, and all you could do was push him back. It had been sloppy and wet. It had been wrong.

You couldn’t speak.

“Sorry?” he asked. His eyebrows scrunched together.

You stood quickly, reaching down to fix your dress before you walked off. Luke was hot on your tail.

“I thought you were cool with that!” he exclaimed as he stomped through the grass behind you. A few strangers turned their heads, so you faced him and kept him close. “Did last night mean anything to you?”

“Yes,” you said flatly. “Last night meant everything to me. But last night means nothing now. It has to mean nothing now.”

Luke laughed and ran his fingers through his hair. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Us, Luke,” you said, holding out your arms. “We’ve been best friends for like, ten years, and suddenly that changes in one night. Maybe if we were on similar paths, it would actually work. But it doesn’t work, Luke. It just doesn’t. Not for us.”

His face relaxed, and his lips pulled into a frown. “Not for us?” he whispered. “What does that even mean?”

“It means that you’re you,” you said, “and I’m me. We live on two different parts of the world, and we still don’t know where we belong. It’s not the right time–– if there’s even a right time at all.” You hugged your bare arms as a light breeze blew over.

“Who fucking cares?”

“I care,” you replied.

Luke let out an exasperated sigh. “Fucking hell,” he mumbled, laughing lightly. “Why do you have t’care? Just say fuck it. Do what you fuckin’ want.”

“No, Luke, I can’t just do that––“

“God, you’re being so annoying.”

You blinked. “I’m–– what?”

Luke blanched and swallowed. “Nothing.”

“I’m being so annoying?” you asked with a smirk. “Oh, wow. Okay. Sorry. I guess I’ll stop being so annoying then.”

“No,” said Luke. “I didn’t mean that.”

“You can’t take it back.”

“Please.” His eyes widened, and his sincerity radiated off of him. “I didn’t––“

“What did you mean?”

“What?”

You sighed. Your stomach hurt, and you wanted to just go home. “If you didn’t mean it, then what did you mean?”

Luke shrugged. “Just think you’re being kinda unreasonable.”

“What?” you questioned. “Because I don’t like it here?”

“Because you’re not open to trying!” yelled Luke.

His raised voice made your heart stop. It made every built-up emotion ache to release in an instant. But you wouldn’t let yourself cry. “I want to try,” you said weakly. “I wanna try so badly. But I wanna be happy, Lu.”

He folded his arms over his chest.

“I’m happy with you,” you continued. “But I’m not gonna be happy here. As much as I like being with you, it’s not gonna cancel any of that out.”

Luke didn’t reply. He stared at you, eyes glazed and emotionless.

“I’m gonna go home,” you said.

“Okay.”

You nodded. “I mean, home home.”

Luke’s eyes filled with another unreadable emotion. “Why?”

You sighed again, but this time, you felt annoyed as well. You felt like every feeling from the night prior had dripped from your shoulders. You felt like it had all gone down the drain. “I don’t belong here,” you said.

“Yes, you fucking do!”

“I’m going home,” you repeated, this time harsher as your eyes brimmed with tears.

Luke’s composure fell. There was silence for a moment, and then he nodded. He nodded twice. “Okay,” he mumbled. “Okay.”

-

Luke had been peeling the skin from around his nails.

The two days following the party had been spent in heavy tension. It took every ounce of him to not bring it up–– he wanted to talk about everything he had said, yet the more time that passed, the more he forgot. But he remembered every change in your expression, and his stomach churned at the thought of him upsetting you the way he did. He wanted to take it all back.

You didn’t mention it either. You packed up your belongings quietly, and he didn’t bother you. He didn’t bother exhausting you over words that meant little in the grand scheme of things. Because as much as he wanted you to stay, he knew that you had no choice. In a perfect world, he could drop everything for you. In a perfect world, he could settle down and be with you for the rest of his life. Nobody made decisions in the span of a week, but he wished he could.

He saw you. He didn’t want to see anyone else.

Luke drank his coffee cold on your last day. It stained his white shirt, yet he kept his feet planted against the tiles in his kitchen. He didn’t go change because you were back in the guest room, and he knew that his chest would hurt the sight of you. He knew he would try to say things to make you stay. He knew that they would fail.

He heard the wheels of your suitcase before he saw you. And then you were there, jean jacket draped over your arm while you waited for him to speak up. Luke didn’t know how to talk anymore. He only felt dejection.

“My flight leaves in four hours,” you said, grip tightening around the handle of your suitcase.

Luke nodded. He wanted to believe you were sad, too. He wanted to believe you still thought about that night only days ago.

“I can call a cab,” you continued with a shrug. A light-hearted shrug that felt out-of-place.

He shook his head. “I’ll take you,” he said, but his voice was weak.

“Okay.”

And the familiar silence clicked back into place. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this. It hadn’t felt like this before. Leaving you at sixteen was full of smiles and “see-you-soon”’s. But with you leaving now, it felt like you were leaving for good.

Luke nodded again. “Okay.”

The ride to the airport was quiet. It was a sickening quiet, one that brought on the urge to cry and scream. He wanted to yell at himself for being so fucking ridiculous. His fingers tensed against the steering wheel.

When Luke parked the car, the words “I’m sorry” tumbled from his lips.

You glanced over. “What for?”

A part of him wanted to laugh. You knew the exact reasons why he felt sorry.

But he just shrugged. “For throwing you into my life,” he said. “It was selfish of me. I didn’t think about how it would make you feel.”

“You didn’t mean it like that,” you replied. “I know you didn’t. You were just showing me your life.”

“But it was too much.”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

You gave Luke a small, sad smile before reaching over and grabbing his hand. You intertwined your fingers with his.

“If it’s okay,” you said, “I’d still like to be a part of your life.”

Luke smiled, too. “Yeah,” he breathed out. “It’s always okay.”

-

You felt sick.

You held Luke’s hand on your way into the airport, and you dreaded letting go. You dreaded the idea of possibly never feeling his touch again. You weren’t saying goodbye for good, but it felt like you were.

“Here’s where I leave you,” he mumbled, voice breaking at the last few words, and his grip on your hand loosened.

You refused to let him go. When you turned around, Luke’s façade had chipped. His eyes welled with tears, and soon enough, yours had, too. You pushed yourself against him in a tight embrace, arms meeting around his neck while his wrapped around your waist. The tears slipped down your cheeks before you could stop them.

You wondered why it was so hard. You wondered why it hurt so much.

You held him for as long as you could before losing your balance. Yet, when you pulled away, you didn’t let go of him. You stood on your toes to brush your nose against his.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, clutching the collar of his shirt as you pressed your lips to his through tear slicked cheeks.

Luke held you closer, and this time, he didn’t let you pull away. His lips were warm and wet, but it was perfect. Everything about him was perfect. It hurt so much. You wanted to kiss him forever.

When all air ceased, Luke rested his forehead against yours, and you could feel his own tears falling against your skin. His breath was hot on your lips. And then you pulled him in again, teeth clashing in a hard yet heartbreaking kiss. You didn’t care–– you just needed to feel his lips again.

“Don’t leave,” he mumbled.

Your arms weakened around his shoulders, hands soon resting on his chest as you began to move away. It hurt to smile, but you did it anyway. “Gonna miss you, Squid,” you said, and your eyes watered once more.

Luke sniffed, and as your hand cupped his cheek, he leaned into you. He let out a breath. “Gonna miss you, too,” he said.

Your hand fell back to your side. “Well,” you said, swallowing down the tears that threatened to spill. You shot him another smile. “I’ll let you know when I land.”

He nodded. “Yeah, um––“ He scratched the back of his head. “Thank you.”

So, you nodded, too. “See you soon, String Bean.”

And finally, Luke smiled, too.

You gathered your belongings and slowly made your way to the security line, stomach twisting as your thoughts invaded. You couldn’t shake the negative feelings away. Every glance over your shoulder reminded you that you didn’t want to say goodbye. Every step felt erroneous. You looked back at Luke.

He waved at you, and your chest caved in.

It was wrong. Everything was wrong.

Your eyes scanned the line and the many travelers waiting with their tickets in hand. You looked at the agents who seemed less than pleased to be there that day. And finally, you locked your gaze back on Luke again, and your heart tugged.

It was wrong.

So, you left the line and walked back over to him, and he watched you the entire time.

“I’m sure there’s a later flight,” you sputtered out, heart pounding in your chest while a grin spread on his cheeks. You smiled in return.

“Yeah,” he said, laughing. “I’m sure there is.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck again and kissed him until your head spun. It finally felt so right.

#5sos #5sos fanfic #5sos fanfiction #5sos imagine #5sos imagines #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer imagines #5 seconds of summer fanfiction #5 seconds of summer imagine #5sos au #5 seconds of summer au #luke hemmings #luke hemmings fanfic #luke hemmings fanfiction #luke hemmings imagines #luke hemmings imagine #luke imagine #luke imagines #luke fanfiction #luke fanfic #luke hemmings au #luke au #luke blurb #5sos blurbs #my writing #swearing #luke 5sos #luke fluff #luke hemmings fluff

[therainroguefanfiction]

🔥 ℝise Ⱥbove I̾t ◈ Chapter 011 [A Hero’s Style]

📑 Table of Contents | ◂Backward

Word Count: 2,490 ☁

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

〈“It’s the very first breath, When your head’s been drowning underwater, And it’s the lightness in the air when you’re there.” Logic ft. Alessia Cara, “1-800-273-8255″〉

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

The door to the nurse’s office slid open and the boy with the messy green hair stepped inside. He was cradling his right hand, the index finger swollen and badly bruised. I sat up on the bed, rising a brow at him. “The fuck happened to you?”

His gaze shot up, a blush covering his freckled cheeks and nose. “A-Ah, it was n-nothing, really!”

My eyes narrowed at him. “Pretty sure a broken finger ain’t ‘nothing’, but okay.”

“W-What about you?” he asked, softly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He refused to meet my gaze. “A-Are you okay, Winchester-san?”

The door slid open again and Granny stepped inside. “Can I help you, deary? What happened?”

He handed her a slip of paper, his green eyes trained on the ground. “I, umm… I got hurt…”

“Well, I can see that.” She brought his hand to her lips and gave it a smooch before having him sit down to wrap it up. He thanked her before swaying out of the room, tiredly. She glanced over at me. “Feeling better?”

“Define ‘better’,” I scoffed, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. “I could go for some tacos, if that’s what you mean.”

“That’s the best I could hope for,” she smiled, patting my arm. “You’re free to go.”

I gave her a lazy salute before leaving the room. I stopped off to change back into my uniform before heading back to class. A couple students still lingered inside, turning to look at me when I slid the door open. Didn’t anyone ever teach these brats it’s rude to stare? I scowled, grabbing my bag from my desk before leaving the room.

“Young Jen!” A woosh of air rushed past me before Toshi appeared in front of me, his large hands on my shoulders. “I was looking for you!”

“Well, you found me. And you know where I live, so.”

“Come with me, please!”

It was a bit hard to avoid drawing attention to myself when I was being dragged along by the most attention-grabbing hero in the fucking world. He led me to a small room with a couch and coffee table, where three cups of steaming tea sat. Aizawa was sitting in an armchair with his eyes closed and arms crossed.

“Please have a seat,” Toshi held out his arm toward the couch and I plopped down on the end closest to Aizawa. He sat beside me, angling his large body, which slowly fizzled out to his skeletal form. He coughed a few times before speaking. “Will you tell me what happened today?”

“With the green-haired kid? Yeah, I was wondering about that, too. A broken finger is pretty crazy, huh?”

“Jen,” Aizawa shifted, giving me a pointed look.

I shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t fucking know. One minute I was fine, the next I’m being subdued by Magic Eraser over here.”

Toshi put his hand on my knee, giving me a kind look. “You know you don’t have to keep secrets from us. You can be honest, you can trust us, we won’t judge you. We just want to help you.”

I clicked my tongue, lifting my leg to rest my ankle on my knee to remove his hand. “That’s pretty unfair, Toshi, when you have so many secrets of your own. Trust you? That’s rich considering you won’t even trust me.”

“What are you talking about, Young J -”

“You know a shit ton more about my dear old mum than you’re willing to tell, aye?” I forced a smile, standing up and shoving my hands in my pockets. “Probably about me, too. And this damned quirk. But that’s fine. I really don’t remember anything that happened so can I go now?”

The two of them exchanged a look.

“This isn’t over,” Aizawa responded, but his voice was softer than it had been earlier.

“Sure, sure.” I waved at them over my shoulder before closing the door behind me.

As I walked home, my phone started to buzz in my pocket as a new message came through. Another a few minutes later. And another. My eye twitched, already annoyed. I swear to god if Murder is spamming me again… but I knew it could only be him. I only have three contacts in my phone – Aizawa never texts me and I knew Toshi would be giving me some space for a while before trying to talk things out.

At that moment, I was overcome by a loneliness fiercer than I had ever felt before.

‘Oi, extra’

‘Dont ignore me’

‘I want a rematch’

The hell is this kid on about now? I replied, ‘U won last time bro…’

‘Its not a win unless i destroy u completely!’

I rubbed the back of my neck, ‘Im really not in the mood for this’

‘Che what crawled up ur ass and died?’

I hesitated, stopping to look up at the sky. The blue was replaced by hues of orange and red as the sun sunk low on the horizon. We’ve only talked a few times, but I felt… a bond with Murder and, right now, he’s the closest thing to a friend that I’ve got. ‘Hey… I wanna tell u somethin’

‘Oh god i dont want ur nudes’

This fuckin’ brat… ‘I said tell not show dumbass’

‘The fuckd u just call me bitch?!’

I slid my key into the lock, stepping into the silent apartment. I kicked my shoes off, pushing them against the wall so Toshi wouldn’t trip when he finally returned home. Falling onto the couch, another message came through.

‘Well r u gonna tell me or nah’

I smiled, sadly and began to tell him my story. I told him about how I got here and about the shadow man with his weird-ass warp quirk, about Gramps and how my mother was apparently a hero. I left out names and key details, of course, but I told him mostly everything that had happened over the past year. He would chime in with some smart ass remark every now and then, but I ignored them and continued to pour my heart out to this guy I had only just met a few days ago.

It felt so goddamn nice to get everything off my chest. It felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

That night, I slept better than I had since I arrived here.

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

“I am… HERE!” The door to class 1-A slammed open and Toshi leaned into the room, standing on his tiptoes and holding the outside of the doorframe. “Coming through the door like a hero!”

If that’s how heroes make an entrance, count me out. It seemed to impress the other students, though, as a murmur of excitement filled the room. God, these kids are too easily amused.

“I can’t believe it’s really All Might!”

“So he is a teacher! This year is going to be totally awesome!”

“Hey look, is he wearing his silver age costume?”

“I’m getting goosebumps, it’s so retro!”

I fell onto my desk with a sigh. It’s like a bunch of little kids meeting Santa at the mall. I guess I could kind of understand it if he had powers but they didn’t, but they do. They’re no different from him, they’re just younger. I was thankful to be sitting behind Big Boobs – between her tall frame and gravity-defying hair, I was completely hidden from Toshi’s line of sight. We hadn’t talked since yesterday. I was asleep by the time he came home, and he was gone before I woke up.

“Welcome to the most important class at U.A. High – think of it was heroing 101!”

I don’t think ‘heroing’ is a word. Or is it? Scratching my cheek, I pulled out my phone, hiding it under my desk as I typed the word into the Goggle. Oh my god, the first result that comes up says the word ‘heroing’ means the opposite of being a hero! There’s also a mention of something about heroines. I scoff, earning a glare from the Peppermint that sits beside Big Boobs.

“Here, you will learn the basics of being a pro! And what it means to fight in the name of good. Let’s get into it! Today’s lesson, we’ll pull no punches!” He held out a card that said ‘battle’ in large, bold letters.

“Fight training!”

“But one of the keys of being a hero is~” Toshi pointed to the left wall as thin shelves emerged from it, holding numbered cases. “Looking good! There were designed for you based on your quirk registration forms and the request you sent in before school started. Get yourself suited up and then meet me at training ground beta!”

“Yes, sir!”

I waited until he left the room before standing up and grabbing case number twenty-one, following the throng of students as they rushed to the locker rooms to get changed. I went to the back of the room, hoping to avoid the other girls before sliding my shirt off.

“Woah, you have a tattoo? That’s so cool!”

I glanced over at the Punk Girl, earphone jacks hanging from her ear lobes. I grunted in response, turning my back to her. She muttered something about being rude before walking away from me. I glanced over my ‘costume’ before grunting in approval. Honestly, I had expected them to fuck it up, especially since Midnight didn’t approve of it, but I was surprised that they had kept it just as specified.

Black, steel-toe combat boots accompanying black baggy cargo pants with plenty of pockets for knives. A black belt with a silver skull buckle. A white wife beater, over which was a white overshirt, the sleeves stopping just past my elbows. I glanced in the mirror, putting my pendant under the tanktop before tucking the front of it behind the belt buckle. Damn, I really like this look.

I stepped out of the locker room ahead of most of the girls, seeing a few guys leaning against the wall outside, waiting. Fumi was among them, dressed in a black cloak that completely covered his body. He glanced at me when I approached, red eyes scanning my body.

“You look nice, Winchester-san.” He said, politely.

I chuckled. “You can use my first name, it’s easier. And you don’t look so bad yourself, Fumi.”

“Fumi?” he mused, following in step beside me as we headed down the hall.

“Don’t like it?” I asked, glancing at him.

“I don’t particularly mind,”

I hummed.

As the group reached the end of the long hallway, I could hear Toshi’s booming voice before I saw him.

“They say that clothes make the pros, young ladies and gentlemen. And behold – you are the proof! Take this to heart, from now on, you are all heroes in training!” His shadowed eyes scanned the crowd. “This is getting me all revved up! You look so cool! Now, shall we get started, you bunch of newbies?”

My eye twitched. Who the fuck is he callin’ a ‘newbie’? Didn’t that insult die like five years ago? We’ve talked about this, man, don’t try to be hip, you’re just gonna embarrass yourself, bro. I sighed, shaking my head. This is gonna be a long-ass day.

Footsteps came from the tunnel and I glanced over my shoulder. Is that… a green bunny? No, no, no, there’s something familiar about that costume, but what is it? Ugh, this is gonna bug me.

“Now that you’re ready, it’s time for combat training!”

“Sir!” Prep was encased in a suit of armor. “This is the fake city from our entrance exam. Does that mean we will be conducting urban battles again?”

“Not quite!” Toshi held up two fingers and at first, I thought he was flashing us the peace sign. “I’m going to move you two steps ahead! Most of the villain fights you see on the news take place outside. However, statistically speaking, run-ins with the most dastardly evil-doers take place indoors. Think about it! Backroom deals. Home invasions. Secret underground lairs. Truly intelligent criminals stay hidden in the shadows. For this training exercise, you’ll be split into teams of good guys and bad guys, and fight two on two indoor battles!”

Good guys and bad guys? That’s such a gray area, ain’t it? I leaned my arm on Fumi’s shoulder, scratching my cheek. Is anyone truly ‘good’ or ‘bad’, really?

“Isn’t this a little advanced?” Frog-girl asked.

“The best training is what you get on the battlefield! But, remember, you can’t just punch a robot this time. You’re dealing with actual people now.”

Actual people, huh? Should I avoid using my quirk? If I lose control again, there’s no Aizawa around to stop me. Someone could get seriously hurt or… I shook my head. Come on, don’t think that way. Just take a deep breath, you got this.

“Sir, will you be the one deciding who wins?” Probably.

“How much can we hurt the other team?” How villainous.

“Do we need to worry about the losers getting expelled liked earlier?” No, ’cause Toshi ain’t Aizawa.

“Will you be splitting us up based on chance or comparative skill?” Should be obvious it’s gonna be random.

“Isn’t this cape pre chic?” What the fuck is wrong with you, French Fry?

I sweatdropped. These guys are really fucking nuts, aren’t they?

Toshi held his head back, his voice strangled. “I wasn’t finished talking…” He reached into his costume, which I didn’t know had pockets, and pulled out a small notebook about the size of his palm, flipping it open as he held each side with one hand. “Listen up!”

Oh my fucking god, he wrote a script for this? “This class is a hot fucking mess…”

“The situation is this: The villains have hidden a nuclear missile somewhere in their hideout. The heroes must try to foil their plans. To do that, the good guys either have to catch the evildoers or recover the weapon. Likewise, the bad guys succeed if they protect their payload or capture the heroes. Time is limited and we’ll choose teams by drawing lots!” He held up a bright, yellow box.

“Isn’t there a better way?” Prep asked.

“Think about it,” Green Bunny responded from beside him, holding up a gloved finger. “Pros often have to team up with heroes from other agencies on the spot. So maybe that’s the reason we’re seeing that here!”

“Yes, I see. Life is a random series of events… Excuse my rudeness!”

I should really learn these guy’s names, but how can I do that without actually having to interact with them? I wonder if Aizawa or Tosh would let me see the student files… that seems pretty doubtful. Plus, Tosh hasn’t looked at me once so he’s probably still upset with me.

“No sweat! Let’s draw!”

Yup, this is definitely going to be a long-ass fucking day.

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

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[arthurs-wife]

Five Stages

Anonymous said to arthurs-wife: can you do something where arthur and reader had a kid when they were young like early twenties but they got killed when they were a few years old by some bandits and then present time, like chapter 4 or something, they find out where the bandits are and they go to kill them. love ur writing sm 💞💞💞💞

A/N: Content warning for mentions of a child dying (not in detail or anything) and killing a man. This was sad, I might not do another child death thing again yall. 

It had been years. Years since she was taken from you so soon. You and Arthur huddled up in a cabin somewhere and tried to not look at each other so often.

The two of you shouldn’t have stayed together this long. After burying your child, you should have gone your own way, hung yourself like you meant to. Arthur had stopped you that night and held you in his arms while your soul tore itself apart.

You hadn’t held each other like that since.

But yesterday Charles had taken you aside and whispered quietly that the gang who tore your life apart all those years ago had been spotted in the northern part of Ambarino and you packed your horse before he could finish the sentence. Although of course, Charles had told Arthur too and that’s when he grabbed your arm gently and said you were crazy if you thought you were going without him.

And that’s where you were tonight, alone in the dark in some abandoned shack on a mountain with a clear view of the fires in their camp. Arthur huddled against you and you were glad for his warmth.

“Tell me the plan again?” he asked.

“We wait for them to go to sleep and slit their throats one by one,” you said for the thousandth time, “do you remember what the man looks like? The one that killed her?”

“I couldn’t forget it,” he said quietly and you believed him.

Silenced passed and the two of you shared a flask of whiskey, lighting up cigarettes to keep you warm.

“Will you forgive me when this is over?” he asked suddenly.

“Arthur there’s nothing to forgive-”

“You still blame me for not being fast enough,” he cut you off and stared out the window at nothing.

You didn’t say anything, you knew your heart blamed him because there was nothing else to blame. It had been fifteen years and you still didn’t know who to blame. You?

“Arthur, I-”

“I blame myself too, you know,” he said and you looked at him, really looked at him, his eyes were sad and glossy, he sniffed and looked at the ground. You had never heard this, and kept your mouth shut. “I wasn’t there when you needed me to be and it cost us our daughter’s life. It cost me your love.”

It hit you like a train to hear that Arthur thought you stopped loving him. Could you really blame him for coming to that conclusion? When was the last time you told him you loved him?

You took his hand and he turned to face you, offering you a small smile. *Remember,* you thought, *he lost his daughter, too.*

Leaning up as far as you could go in this position, you kissed him softly and placed your foreheads together. He nuzzled his head between your neck and shoulder and you stayed there for what seemed like hours as the wind raged outside.

The voices finally died down from the campfire and the pair of you pulled out your knives, sneaking out of the shack and towards their camp. The guard was easy to kill, you snuck up behind him and slit his throat, laying him down gently in the snow.

One by one you finished off the bandits, knives through the ribs or throat, your hands over their mouths so they couldn’t scream at the sight of you. Finally there was one left, the man who killed your daughter. Arthur kicked him hard and plopped his boot in the center of the man’s chest.

“Mornin’ sunshine.”

The man looked around blearily until he focused on the pair of you.

“Who the hell are you?”

“If you don’t remember us, you have a whole ‘nother set of problems.”

He squinted and recognition crept into his features.

“Badger’s Creek…”

Arthur nodded and spit, swooping down to wrap a hand around the man’s throat and digging a knee into his lower abdomen. He nodded to you and you knelt next to him, knife out.

“I hope you burn for eternity,” you hissed and slowly slipped the knife under his sternum. He screamed loudly and bled out for ages, the life slowly leaving his eyes. When he was still, you stood up and Arthur let go of him.

You didn’t feel any better. She wasn’t back. But Arthur stood up and some kind of weight was lifted from your shoulders. When he hugged you it was warmer, more complete. Maybe things could be at least sort of normal now.

Back in the shack you two huddled together under a blanket and laughed about things that happened ten years ago, five years ago, yesterday. You kissed him and the dark scars over your heart seemed to heal a little faster.

You started to love him a little more again.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #my fics

[juicifeur]

Grounded (Winchesters + sister!reader)

Anon asked: Hey Can I please get a sisfic where she's like late teens (idc) and she sneaks a hellhound she rescued into the bunker and the boys are pissed when they finally discover it? Maybe they want to throw it out but she insists on going if the dogs going, so she waits outside in the rain or something until they agree to let her keep it? Idk I'm horrible at these hahaha :)

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: none? Teen angst? Sass?

A/N: Thank you for the request! I don’t know if this is what you wanted though

Crowley had been on your brothers' asses lately about keeping their noses out of his business, but all you were able to think about was whether or not you could keep your big fat mouth shut about him getting involved in their business; and yours. You were waist deep in his business with your smuggled pet if you could even call it that.

In every book or wiki page you had read over that mentioned hellhounds, it described a demonic creature that tore flesh from bone and brought people to a bloody afterlife. They were said to have long fang-like teeth, tough skin, claws like talons and eyes that glowed red; all in all, they weren’t supposed to be very nice. Every other one you’d met was the latter; except for the one in your basement.

Hellhounds could just look like a breed of pitbull with pure black fur. You’d figured out that demons could manipulate the way that humans perceived their hounds, just like they could manipulate how they could be seen themselves. Sure, the dog was a little different - his pupils were red and he had a particular taste for red meat, very red meat, and his claws were sharp no matter how much you tried to file them down - but those were just minor details.

  “Where are you taking that?” Your older brother Sam looked up from the dimly lit table against the wall in the tiny kitchen. You had a raw steak, wrapped in plastic, tucked under your shirt. Apparently, that wasn’t a good enough hiding place.

  “Um, downstairs. Testing how sharp my knives are. This is the closest thing we have to flesh.” You lied. Sam glanced at you and nodded briefly.

  “Just bring it back when you’re done.” He went back to the article that was occupying the screen of his laptop without so much as a sceptical comment. You assumed that your eldest brother, Dean, had the intention of cooking it. But he could get another one. Breathing out, you made your way down to room 7B.

You left the door unlocked most of the time, but you carried a key with you just in case. You pushed aside the shelves at the back of the room that held many boxes of previous Men Of Letters cases and you pulled the heavy door open, the metal squealing across the cracked cement floor. The Hellhound lay in a small dark heap in the corner of the dungeon, breathing softly, and you approached it with caution. You’d made a point to douce your glasses in Holy fire just so you could see it without getting your hand bitten off.

The Hellhound was still young, you weren’t sure if you could call it a puppy, but by no circumstance did that mean that it didn’t have the potential to be dangerous.

It growled in its throat as you got closer, teeth gleaming as its lips lifted in a snarl, and you stopped moving. It was surprising that such a small, harmless-looking creature could churn up so much apprehension in you.

  “I won’t hurt you.” You muttered, holding your hands out. The animal sat up as you dropped the now unwrapped steak on the ground in front of you, wanting it to come closer. The scent of the meat seemed to peak its interest. Its nose pointed upwards and it took careful steps toward you. The red eyes of the dog bore into yours, watching for signs that you might attack it, watching for a challenge; but you took a step back, having no intention of doing anything to harm it.

  “It’s okay. I just brought you food.” You told it. The animal walked quickly up to the steak and took it. Like a puppy does, it laid down and chewed on the meat with its small sharp teeth. It was kind of cute.

  “See? Not that bad huh? I’m just gonna go around here and look at your leg.” There was a ring wound around the pup’s leg that resembled a mark that shackles would make. Clearly, young Hellhounds were of no use to Crowley. You still had a suspicion that the puppy did not show up at your doorstep by accident. It was just an easy place to leave it, although you had no idea why Crowley would want to leave the Winchesters with a Hellhound.

   “What the hell is that?” Your oldest brother Dean’s voice boomed from behind you, the sound vibrating off the walls. You turned your head quickly to meet his eyes and he glared in your direction. His shoulders were stiff and his hands rested on his hips.

   “Y/N, what the hell is that.” He said again. This time as more of an angry statement. 

   “Would you believe me if I said it was nothing?” Your voice shook with nervousness and you felt the tiny animal brushing up against your leg, the steak was gone. Carefully you picked it up and held it to your chest where it seemed to calm down and look at Dean with its piercing red eyes. 

You watched your brother’s face go pale and his jaw clenched as he recognized the creature.

   “Is- Y/N tell me that is not a Hellhound.” He pointed at the puppy in your arms.

   “Get that thing out of here. Now.” He said, fear in his voice. Dean’s history with Hellhounds wasn’t exactly spotless.

   “Dean, he’s just a baby he can’t hurt-”

   “Out now, Y/N! That thing is dangerous.”

   “If he goes out, I go too.” You threatened.

   “Fine by me, as long as that thing isn’t in the bunker.” Dean glared and practically dragged you to the front door.

Just your luck, it had started to pour rain.

Your hair clung to your cheeks and neck and your clothes were heavy with water as you tried to shelter yourself under the overhang above the large front door. The puppy in your arms shivered and you felt terrible for trying and failing to transfer some of your body heat to it.

   “Don’t worry the rain will stop soon.” You mumbled as you tucked him into the front of your sweater, he licked your chin and then curled himself against your chest. 

Thunder clapped from above and cold rain fell against your cheek; you knew you’d spoken too soon. You sighed deeply.  Two muffled voices got closer to the door behind your back and you tightened your arms around yourself, hunched over on the ground.

   “Sammy, its a Hellhound.” You heard Dean say.

   “Dude, it's like this big,” You could only imagine that Sam was exaggerating how small the animal was and making Dean feel like a wuss.

   “It’s just a baby, what could it do to you?” The younger of your brothers finished. You heard the latch being released on the thick metal door and you looked up as their head poked out into the cold weather.

Sam was quick to pull you inside and grab as many blankets as he could find so your shivering would be subdued. Den was reluctant to get near you with red eyes staring out from your sweatshirt at him.

   “He doesn’t bite, Dean.” You glared at him and he rolled his eyes.

   “I’m not worried about him, it’s his mom I’m worried about.” His eyes were set uneasily on the face of the puppy that he knew couldn’t be as cute on the inside as it was on the outside. 

   “Crowley doesn’t want anything to do with him, you’re fine. Don’t be a wimp about it. At this point he’s harmless.” You rolled your eyes and looked at Sam who also looked a little uneasy.

   “So, the King of Hell just dropped him on the doorstep and said good luck? Yeah right, I’m not buying it. He’s probably some kind of spy. Harmless hellhound, that’s an oxymoron if I’ve ever heard one. He’s probably plotting to kill us in our sleep or something-”

   “Dean!”

   “What?”

   “Shut up.” Sam glared at his brother and looked back to you with a look of sympathy gracing his features.

   “Look, Y/N, this thing is tiny now but it’s gonna get bigger. A lot bigger. There’s no way to tell if we can trust it.”

   “I can train it.” You scratched the tiny animal behind its ears and his spine curled into your chest in content. Sam sighed.

   “Does it have a name?” Sam asked as he got closer. He ran his hand over the creatures back.

   “Sam, are you kidding me?” Dean protested.

   “What if it’s got some sort of disease?”

   “Dean, chill out. Does this look dangerous to you?” Sam took the baby Hellhound from your arms and carried it toward Dean.

   “Well no but-”

   “If he goes then I go too.” You glared at your oldest brother, knowing full well how Dean felt about you leaving on your own. You crossed your arms over your chest and stared at both of your brothers.

   “Fine. But I’m not cleaning up after it.” Dean muttered, seeming to come around. His hand snaked from his pocket and he gave the puppy a small pat on the head.

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[chocosvt]

❝ wips tag ❞

i was tagged by the gorgeous honey petals @jungnoir n @yeolology so thnk u ladies all ur ideas are so extravagant n alluring so allow me 2 be the wet blanket!!!

rn im focusing more on two pieces rather than the others ive been planning so there aint much but ya know, enough 2 get the ball rolling.

01 : baseball!mingyu / friends to lovers / romance / angst / nsfw shit

Mingyu twirled the bat around before the stump of it dug into the cinnamon dirt. His lips pursed for a moment whilst he thought, every little chirp from crickets hidden swift in the brush echoing in place of your conversation. Finally, the baseball bat budged, the wooden material resting on his shoulder as he concurred with your musing. He supposed he would go along with your entreating now, especially since he had heavy news he kept pondering on whether not he should share just yet.

A shallow smile bloomed up your lips, disappearing in the same brevity it arrived in. You were prepared to walk off to the side and sit underneath the silver moonlight as Mingyu gave his arm a hefty exercise, your ears practically perking like a feline’s when he beckoned for you.

“C’mere,” he murmured, dragging his deep ginger eyes along you blatantly, “I wanna see if you remember the pitch I taught you.” Well, maybe he would have some fun first. You fidgeted at his request, the breath inhabiting your lungs being purloined alongside a single twinkle of the stars. Your cheeks were encompassed in limerence, the memories you coddled of your previous pitch ending up with your frame hoisted over the sturdy boy’s shoulder, his palm grooving up the underside of your thigh and squeezing the flesh almost domineeringly. Then you had refused to even attempt it, though later on, with enough coaxing and honey-smooth sweet talk, he had you back on the pitcher’s mound.

“You’re supposed to be practicing, not me.” You admonished gently.

Mingyu kicked his sneaker into the dirt, the dusty cloud dissipating just as quickly as your confidence. “Just once. I’ll help you if you don’t remember how.”

02 : prince!jun / fluff / angst / possible spice / my tears

( a little heads up 7 up, this is a portion from prince!jun’s childhood !! )

Junhui couldn’t comprehend why her tone sounded so taunt, why her eyes were hardened blackberries chewing into his flesh. Pressing his lips together in agreement, he apologized for putting up a fuss and gazed down the long, marble corridor where the wash ways were held. The maid fluffed out her feather duster, relief evident on her wrinkled features. He started his bath, slowly treading his hand through the warm water, watching the dirt caked overtop his skin soak away.

He didn’t understand what all these differences were, why you couldn’t stay as long to play as the other girls. They were all about feeding him tea in porcelain cups and cutting him these ham sandwiches with their silver knives. Together they’d sit by the water fountain, eating and drinking, every girl’s satin dress that flowed like river water glittering under the sun. The spoke about which jewels they were decorating their curtains with, what tea tasting they were accompanying their parents with.

Junhui listened, though none of it sounded interesting.

“Can we play hide and seek tag?” He had asked one time to a girl named Violet, after patiently listening to her describe all the colours in her opal ring.

“We’re not allowed to run inside.” She replied.

“No, no. Like, outside.”

Immediately her voice cracked with revolt. “In the dirt? That sounds awful. If I get anything on this pretty dress I won’t be able to go to the tea house!”

“I don’t get it. [Y/N]’s pretty- I mean she wears pretty dresses and she plays hide and seek tag.”

Violet pursed her lips. “Who’s [Y/N]?”

Whoops. (tfw u dont know how 2 close the scene so u cop in with the classic “whoops” aka ill figure it out 3 mins before i post it.)

03 : love cafe!wonwoo / requested / angst / nsfw / slow burn romance?

Yet you could never stop your daydreaming, or how often you curled up in bed wondering what it would feel like to have his fingers combing absentmindedly at your scalp, those rose stained lips of his leaving lightweight kisses upon your forehead until the rattling of the ice machine drowned away.

It made your heart feel heavy, and not with butterflies, but with this depressing darkness that splashed like tar to the floor of your chest. No matter what, you would piously stumble back to that high school lunch in the art room; feel the sting that encompassed his words lacerate your confidence. There has to be a way to get close to him, you’d sigh inside your head, but maybe he really does hate me and I should keep my respectful distance. You were never certain of what that single “no” meant all those years ago. By analyzing his body language toward you, you figured it would ring with some nuance of significance. He was rather blunt and candor with a plethora of people, yet something told you it became most apparent when he had to interact with the girl who burst into his eleventh grade art room.

“[Y/N], are you noting the key points and terminology of this transcript?” Your professor peered over the thick frames of his glasses, caterpillar brows scrunched together into the most condescending wrinkle. Swallowing the dry patch that inhabited your throat, you nodded and began pretending to jot down whatever key factors he was slurring his words about. Sparing a quick glance upward, you gazed sharply around the room to see if anyone was eyeing you in derision. The last row you swept past belonged to Wonwoo, your heart jolting with an electric charge at catching his calmly flitted eyes tracing you up and down from over his shoulder. Then, it was quite possible he may have smirked at you, his lips that were brighter than bubblegum curling in such transient movement that a single blink erased the whole image. He was turned back to his notebook, printing neatly and succinctly.

Too much coffee this morning, you admonished inside your head, you don’t smirk at people you hate.

so yeah tht’s what im most occupied with. anywho, u can just scan it u dont gotta read all tht word vomit dw it’s cool w/ me. im going so slow with the writing process wefnwihef pls pray 4 me.

tagging : (optional ofc) @dumbbelle @hansolmates @lolitasletters​  @lunarjihoon @peachseong @fluffilyangsty

#OKAY #I BET NONE OF U THOUGHT I HAD SHIT DONE ON THE BASEBALL!AU #BADA BING BADA URE PARTIALLY CORRECT IM HAVING DIFFICULTY WITH THE ANGST PART #i feel like i pasted too much of my writing onto this post but it was hard finding sections where i could take #a chunk or two and not have yall like #:)) what does this fucng mean :)) #*pastes half the story instead* #also it took me reading all of mj's post 2 realize wips means works in progress #guys im still in 200BC let's not h8 #*tg #t:writing